


Say It With Flowers

by memyselfandwe



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Human Doctor (Doctor Who), Humor, Neighbors, Romance, flower shop
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-24 04:14:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 39,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13803183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/memyselfandwe/pseuds/memyselfandwe
Summary: Rose Tyler had just moved into her new flat. It was everything she could have dreamed of with only one drawback: the madman living upstairs.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Caedmon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caedmon/gifts), [Rose_Nebula](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_Nebula/gifts).



> So, this fic originated from a prompt: Person A owns a flower shop and person B comes storming in one day, slaps $20 on the counter and says, “How do I passive-aggressively say fuck you in a flower?”  
> I shared it in a group a while back in hopes that someone else would write it. After a few ideas got bounced around, Caedmon and Rose_Nebula turned it back around on me and suddenly I found myself writing it. Trust me, they wouldn't let me forget which is why I gifted this work to them.  
> Now, I originally planned on making this a fun, little 2-3 chapter fic, but these characters are stubborn and it quickly turned into a multi-chapter slow burn. I seriously have no control over these two, they’re doing it to themselves, but they’ll get there.  
> Lastly, I want to thank the lovely TenRoseForeverandever for being my very first beta and making this fic 1000 times better.

A cascade of ice-cold water washed over Rose Tyler’s head, interrupting what was supposed to be a serene morning of drinking tea on her new patio.

Leaping to her feet, she shrieked and looked up to see where the water was coming from. An arrangement of plants and flowers hung down from the balcony above, dripping from recently being watered.

“Hello,” she called out, trying to keep her voice pleasant despite her growing irritation. When nobody came she yelled out louder, “Hey!”

A man came strutting out, bracing his hands on the banister as he peered down with angry eyebrows. “What is it?” he bit out irritably in a thick Scottish accent. He paused to take in her appearance as she shivered from the cold. “You know, you shouldn’t be standing out there all wet.”

“I wasn’t wet a minute ago,” she hollered. “I was sitting out here having my tea when you decided to surprise me with an arctic shower.”

“Well you shouldn’t be sitting right under where I do my morning watering, now should you?!”

Rose stared at him perplexed. “How the hell should I know your watering schedule? Besides, this is my patio and I would appreciate it if you would refrain from doing that over my head.”

“Oh!” His eyebrows raised as his voice turned condescending, “Well I’m sorry, princess, I didn’t know I had bloody royalty living below me.”

“Wait. What?” Rose stammered, unsure how to respond.

“Look, these plants,” he indicated the plants hanging above her, “are up here on my balcony. I can’t help it if they might drip a little. Do you come out and yell at the fuckin’ clouds every time it rains too?”

“Of course not,” she uttered in surprise at the audacity he had, turning this around on her.

He pointed toward her door. “Why don’t you go dry off, and drink your tea inside like the rest of us peasants?” With that, he turned away and went back inside, slamming his door shut in the process.

Rose could only stand there, staring at his empty balcony in shock. She thought once she’d left the Estate she’d be done dealing with people so incredibly rude and inconsiderate. Apparently she was wrong. This man living above her made some of her more boorish neighbors in the past seem gracious.

A cool breeze blew through, causing her to shiver again, and she headed back inside. She peeled off her sopping wet clothes, cursing under her breath as she made her way toward the bedroom.

After putting on some dry clothes, she headed back to the living room and decided to put this morning’s fiasco behind her for now. This was only her second day in her new flat and she had a lot of unpacking to do.

Her mum had told her she was being pretentious and didn’t think she needed two bedrooms, but Rose didn’t see it that way. She was making more than enough for rent and after all her hard work, why shouldn’t she reward herself?

Honestly, there had been very little her mum could have said to talk her out of it. The minute she stepped inside, she had known she wanted to live here. The flat featured a bright open kitchen and living area, with breakfast nook and hardwood floors. The master bedroom was very spacious as well, complete with an impressive en-suite.  

Then there was the patio. Being on the first floor meant Rose had a private outdoor space all her own. Of all the amenities this flat had to offer, this feature excited her the most.

The flat was everything she could have dreamed of, with only one drawback: the madman she had just learned was living upstairs.

* * *

 

Soon after the water fiasco came the clippings that littered her patio whenever he trimmed his plants. The first time she’d let it slide, hoping it was a simple mistake, but the second time it happened. she went up to his flat and approached him about it. That interaction had gone worse than the first one, much louder too, and ending with a door being slammed in her face.

It was basically a downward spiral for the next month after that, but of all the irritating habits her upstairs neighbor subjected her to, nothing bothered her more than the one she was experiencing now: his pacing. Not just normal pacing, but quick, inconsistent footsteps erupting from the ceiling above her.

She did her best to ignore it, she really did, but after lying in bed listening to it for over an hour, the pacing only became more erratic. Looking at the time, she saw it was reaching midnight. She needed to get some sleep, so she did what they always did in the Estate when they had a similar problem; she grabbed a broom and rapped the ceiling at the source of the pacing.

His response came in a series of loud stomps of his foot in the same spot. Seconds later the pacing resumed. Rose waited a moment then pounded again, much more aggressively than before because she wanted him to know she wasn’t going to put up with this. The pacing stopped, and for a moment she thought it had worked.  Then she heard the heavy footsteps racing to his balcony.

“Will you stop that incessant banging,” he cried out from above, “I’m trying to think!”

Rose grumbled and stepped out onto her patio and fired back, “Can’t you think a little quieter?”

“Of course I can, but if I do, I won’t be able to hear my thoughts!”

Rose screwed up her face in confusion. “What?”

Grumbling something about whiny kids, he stomped back inside, and the pacing continued. At least it did for about five more minutes, then he came back out and bellowed down to her. “Well, now I lost it! I hope you’re happy!”

Rose turned over in her bed, mumbling to herself, “I am, actually.”

* * *

  


A few short hours later, her alarm clock started blaring, and it took every bit of willpower she had to drag herself out of bed. Once she was up, her first stop was the kitchen where she started a kettle, then proceeded to get ready for work

She made her tea and had a seat, fighting exhaustion. It only took a few sips before she realized, if she was going to get through the day, she would need something much stronger than tea.

  


There was a coffee shop not too far from her flat, making it a very convenient stop for Rose on mornings such as these. It was owned by Donna Noble, a feisty, quick-witted redhead Rose greatly admired.

The front of the shop was often attended to by Donna’s grandfather, Wilf. She never asked Wilf to work for her, he simply insisted by doing it anyway. He wanted to help his granddaughter out anyway he could, and he was glad to be out of the house and away from his daughter, Sylvia’s, nagging.

He soon became a house favorite, with an unusual talent for memorizing the names and drink orders of all their regular customers. Another valuable aspect Donna gained by letting her grandfather work for her were his scones. He had a family recipe even his daughter didn’t know for some of the most delectable scones anyone had ever tasted.

Rose entered the shop, thankful she’d missed the busy, morning rush and greeted Wilf as she approached the counter.

“Good morning, Rose. Caramel latte for you?”

“Please,” Rose smiled and removed her sunglasses, revealing her tired eyes. “I barely slept a wink last night.”

“Neighbor problems again?” Wilf asked as he rung up her order. This wasn’t the first morning she’d come in feeling exhausted from a long night of dealing with her neighbor.

“When is it not?” She rolled her eyes as she handed him the money then stepped aside to wait for her order.

The chime from the front door sounded and she turned, scowling when she caught sight of her heinous neighbor entering the shop. He seemed to be far more rested than she was. She glared at him as he approached and couldn’t stop herself from commenting, “I didn’t get any sleep last night because of you and your endless pacing.”

“And I lost my train of thought because of you,” he retaliated, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Before you moved in, nobody else complained about my thought process.”

“Because everyone else is afraid to approach you,” Rose pointed out. “Why can’t you be like normal people and play music or something while you think?”

“Why can’t you invest in a pair of earplugs, then we could both be happy?”

Rose gaped at him in shock and felt a storm of vulgarities brewing on her tongue when Wilf touched her arm, snapping her from her vile thoughts. He looked at her pleadingly, silently begging her not to cause a scene. “Here you are Miss Tyler. Don’t let Mr. McGregor’s insolence ruin your day.”

“Thank you, Wilf.” She smiled politely as she took her drink from his hand, then turned back to her neighbor with fury in her eyes.  “We’ll talk about this later, Mr. McGregor,” she warned him.

He rolled back on his heels and grinned cheekily. “I can’t wait, Miss Tyler.”

His elation had her seeing red, and as much as she wanted to let him have it, she really needed to get to work. Cursing under her breath she made a quick exit.

“Aiden, why must you be so mean to her,” Wilf asked once Rose was out of sight.

Aiden feigned insult. “Mean to her? I simply came in here for a cuppa and she began attacking me.”

Wilf shook his head dismissively and resumed taking Aiden’s order.  

* * *

 

Two days later, as Rose lay in bed, she heard a strange sound, like something heavy being moved around above her, followed by a scraping noise. She was trying to figure out what that wanker was up to, when a loud buzz pierced her ears, followed by the unmistakable screech of an electric guitar.

Rose leapt out of bed. “What the hell?”

The ear-piercing wailing continued, filling her flat with the unpleasant noise. She grabbed her dressing gown, put on her slippers, and headed upstairs. It was oddly quiet outside and she didn’t hear the guitar again until she approached his door. She wondered, not for the first time, if the noise bothered anyone else and they were just too afraid to confront him. He was insanely rude to everyone, but she wasn’t about to let him intimidate her too.

She banged on the door loudly until the music stopped, then his heavy footsteps could be heard approaching as he barked out, “What is it now, Miss Tyler?”

The door flung open to reveal him in a pair of denims, a dark t-shirt, and a long black coat. She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling self-aware as she stood there in her dressing gown. “How did you know it was me?”

“Lucky guess,” he quipped.

She pointed at the guitar he had slung over his shoulder. “Mr. McGregor, do you have any idea how late it is?”

“You suggested that I play music,” he remarked. “Now you’re complaining about that too?”

“I meant soft music, like on the radio,” she argued. “I didn’t mean for you to go out, buy a guitar, and go all Keith Richards on me.”

“Actually, I didn’t go out and buy it.” He looked down as he cradled the guitar in his hands. “I’ve had it locked away for far too long. I haven’t thought of playing it much until you mentioned it. Thank you.”

“Listen,” Rose pleaded, “it’s nearly midnight and I-.” Her words were cut off as the door closed in her face.

Seconds later the wailing resumed. Rose began pounding on his door again, but her efforts were hopeless.

“Arsehole,” she screamed at the door, giving it a final kick that should have provided her with some level of satisfaction. But, with only thin slippers covering her feet, all it actually gave her was a painful stubbed toe. She limped back down and entered her flat, hearing the continuous wailing resonating from above. She wondered how much worse it could get as she climbed into bed and yanked a pillow over her head and prayed for sleep.

* * *

 

Rose wearily dragged her feet about the restaurant kitchen on an unusually busy Wednesday afternoon.

She worked at Torchwood, an up-and-coming London hotspot with all the attributes of a sophisticated restaurant, but with a more relaxed atmosphere and a budget friendly menu.

It was owned by Ianto Jones, a young entrepreneur whom Rose had met while in culinary school. He was a natural in the kitchen with a highly refined palate and a talent for creating remarkable dishes. Being from a wealthy family, he always carried himself with a sort of self-importance, a trait that Rose initially found off-putting, but soon realized was just a product of his upbringing and not how he saw himself.

He was the one who had befriended Rose in the beginning. After being singled out for not only his social status, but also his sexual orientation, he appreciated having a friend like Rose who treated him as an equal.

Together, they were an unlikely pair: a well-off kid who had every luxury growing up, and an estate girl who had had to work harder than anyone to get where she was. Yet they were inexplicably similar in nearly every other way.

After they had finished school, they went their separate ways, he to get his new restaurant underway while Rose took the long path. Over a few years, Rose had worked her way up and continued learning more about her craft as Ianto had gone through his own hardships of making his dream a reality through failed attempts.

Five years later, he’d finally found his stride and once he was fully established he’d tracked down his old friend and proposed she work with him in his restaurant.

At first, she was hesitant, worried that working for her friend could be catastrophic, but then dismissed those thoughts considering he’d always treated her with more respect than she was often used to. Ianto had offered her a very generous salary, and the desire to leave her current job and nightmarish boss also made the idea of working for him very appealing.

That had been nearly a year ago, and today the restaurant was still highly successful, even more so than when she’d first come on board

She was carefully putting the final touches on a couple of dishes before they went out when an enormous yawn escaped her.

“Looks like someone was out late last night,” Ianto jested as he slid into her station.

Rose scowled and nudged him back to give her some space. “I didn’t sleep well s’ all; no reason to make assumptions.”

“Moody too,” he sassed while adjusting his suit jacket. “How come you couldn’t sleep?”

“Because of that tosser living up above me,” Rose growled.

Ianto smirked, “And what did Mr. McGrump do this time?”

Rose chuckled at Ianto’s play on her neighbor’s name. “He decided the middle of the night was a great time to play a two-hour guitar solo. Then when I went up there to tell him to cut it out, he slammed the door in my face. I honestly don’t know how much longer I can put up with him.”

“Do you need me to handle it?” Ianto playfully cracked his knuckles.

“No,” Rose laughed, “I’ve dealt with much worse growing up on the Estate. I just need to go about this differently.”

“Well, the offer still stands.” Ianto danced his fingers along her work station as he left her to prepare for the dinner crowd.

* * *

 

When Rose arrived home that evening, she spotted something taped to her door. She eyed it curiously as she approached and found it to be a pair of earplugs. She yanked them off the door mumbling, “Seriously!” and entered her flat.

She only had two things on her mind at that moment: a shower and sleep. After washing the day’s grime off, she slipped on a comfortable set of pyjamas and crawled into bed. Her mattress had never felt so heavenly as she curled under the blankets ready to drift off to sleep.

As if he knew she had just climbed into bed, the wail of his guitar started up again. Rose rubbed her tired eyes and groaned before slipping out of bed. She looked around for her notepad and a pen before she walked out and headed upstairs.

First, she knocked, although she knew he wasn’t going to answer. Once she was certain he was ignoring her, she began writing out her note:

_Mr. McGregor,_

_Although you may find your guitar practice soothing, it’s keeping the rest of us awake. I’m not sure what it is you do, but I have a job to go to every day. Please consider this next time you decide to pollute the air with your racket. The world doesn’t revolve around you._

  
She didn’t bother signing it; there was no doubt he would know who it was from. She stuck the note to the door and headed back downstairs to try and sleep. As she walked to her bedroom, she stopped and grabbed the earplugs. She figured it couldn’t hurt to try for one night.

* * *

  


She wouldn’t admit that the earplugs helped at all and told herself it was exhaustion that ultimately brought her to sleep that night. Whatever it was, Rose finally felt refreshed when she woke up the next morning.

She puttered about her flat for a bit, knowing she didn’t have to be at work for a few hours. Like every other morning, she headed to the kitchen to start a kettle, frowning when the range wouldn’t start. She tried several more times, but nothing happened.

After taking a few deep breaths to keep from screaming, she grabbed her phone to call her landlord and request it get looked at. After such a good night’s sleep, she refused to let something so trivial ruin her day. Instead, she decided to make the best of it and take a walk to the coffee shop and get one of Wilf’s scones while she was there.  

 

The coffee shop was slightly more crowded than usual, but like the issue with her range, she refused to let it bother her and waited patiently.

The line crept along slowly and when she approached the counter Wilf greeted her kindly. “Good morning, Rose. The usual?”

Rose nodded. “And can I get a scone too?”

Wilf frowned. “Sorry love, we’re all out. We still have plenty of danishes.”

“Ok,” Rose sighed, “I really had my heart set on one of your scones this morning.”

Wilf rang up her order and as he took her money he glanced over her shoulder uncomfortably. Rose wasn’t sure what that look was about and turned to see her neighbor sitting there, drinking his coffee. On a plate in front of him was a scone.

Rose turned back to Wilf, wide eyed. “Please don’t tell me he got the last scone.”

“Sorry Rose, you know it’s first come, first served,” Wilf explained, handing over her change.

Rose noticed the unease in his eyes and gently touched his hand. “I know Wilf, I’m not angry at you.” But she was angry. It felt as if the universe was against her and her morning’s efforts of trying to remain calm escaped her the moment she saw her neighbor’s face.

When her order was ready, Rose took her items and headed for the door, but couldn’t keep herself from stopping at his table. “First you make it impossible for me to relax on my own patio, next you leave your plant clippings for me to clean up, then you keep me up most nights with your endless racket, and now…,” she pointed down at the scone, “now this?”

He looked down at the table before him. “Am I at your table? You can join me if you’d like.”

“Not the table,” Rose snapped back. “The last scone. It’s like you’re doing this to me on purpose?”

Aiden pinched the bridge of his nose and mumbled under his breath before addressing her. “Yes Miss Tyler, I walked all the way here and bought out every last scone just in hopes that you would come in and want to buy one. All to ruin your day.”

“Honestly, I don’t know anymore,” Rose fought to keep her voice level so as not to draw any attention. “With everything else you’ve been doing to make my life miserable, maybe you did.”

His eyes lit up. “Oh, so suddenly the whole world revolves around you?”

Rose’s jaw dropped. He was using her own words against her. Now she was livid. “Are you seriously…”

Aiden leapt to his feet. “Don’t bother!” He stood over her. “I’m tired of hearing it over and over again. It’s exhausting. Why don’t you give it a rest?” He bent down to pick up his scone, and a sly grin spread across his face as he eyed three flowers sitting in a vase on the table. With his opposite hand he reached out and picked the red one. “Next time, if you’re going to say it,” he held the flower up to her, “say it with flowers.”

Speechless, Rose plucked the flower from his fingers.

Looking her directly in the eye, he took a large bite from his scone, chewing it delightedly. “Delicious!” He winked insolently before stepping around her to exit the shop, leaving Rose stunned... as always.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this is later than planned. It's been a crazy week. Anyway, I really want to thank my beta TenRoseForeverandever. She did so much for this story, you have no idea. I'll never be able to thank her enough.

Aiden McGregor wasn’t very well liked and most people tended to avoid him. He didn’t let it bother him; he even told himself he preferred it that way. It isn’t that he didn’t like people, he just didn’t care for small talk or pretending to care. If some people found that rude, then so be it.  

There was a time, before the war, when that was different. He was much more approachable back then. He’d joined the Army as a doctor because he thought he could make a difference and help people. Instead, he’d witnessed one death after another. Young men and women who couldn’t be helped, no matter how hard he tried.

Once he was discharged, he’d quit the medical profession entirely, feeling he’d failed the people who’d put their lives in his hands. He hadn’t wanted any others to suffer because of his incompetence. 

Not wanting to explain his decision to those who knew him, he had left Glasgow and moved to London hoping for a fresh start.

Shortly after the move he’d begun seeing a therapist, only he’d refused to talk to her about the things that had been haunting him. After months of trying to get him to open up, she’d presented him with a potted rose plant in what Aiden could only assume was a last ditch effort to get through to him. She explained that just like other living creatures, flowers and plants enjoy being talked to. If he wasn’t ready to talk to her, maybe he could practice venting his feelings on this plant.

Initially, he’d laughed at the idea but eventually found himself walking out with the small thing in hand. When he arrived home, he’d placed it on the counter and basically forgot all about it.

Two days later, he’d noticed the little yellow roses were turning brown and had become brittle. Jumping into action, he gave it some water and placed it on the balcony for some light. Silly or not, this small plant was in his care and he was damned if he was going to let it die.

That afternoon he’d come home with a new ceramic pot along with soil and plant food. All the recommended items he’d read about. After repotting it and caring for it accordingly, the plant soon came back to life and new yellow roses were beginning to sprout.

What started out as therapy soon became a casual hobby and was now a full-blown passion. He didn’t know flowers could be so complex and held so much meaning, or that they held their own medicinal properties.

It was this fascination that led him to opening Gallifrey Flowers, a small shop that was hidden in plain sight. That it was inconspicuous didn’t hurt business, however, and he was able to maintain a steady flow of customers. It was his mouth that had often got him into trouble until Bill had come along.

Bill was a frequent customer who’d immediately taken a liking to Aiden, despite his snarky comments, saying she found him fascinating. Several times a week she would come in, always cheerful, and full of questions. As much as that should have deterred him, she didn’t annoy him. She was also the only one he allowed to call him “Doctor” after he accidently let that piece of information slip during a conversation.

One afternoon Bill stopped in, telling him she needed someone to vent to. Before he could stop her, she went on a rant about a failed relationship, amongst other things, before mentioning she had nowhere to go and needed to find a job. Although he couldn’t help her with her girlfriend troubles, he was able to help her with her employment situation while permitting her to stay with him at his flat until she was able to find something permanent.  

She soon proved to be a valuable asset. Not only did she take on the unpleasant task of dealing with customers, but she was also punctual, always there on time to open the shop. That was especially helpful on days like today, when Aiden found himself running a bit late after his encounter with Miss Tyler at the coffee shop.

He was still chewing the last bit of his scone when he came waltzing through the front door of the shop in an uncharacteristically good mood. “Mornin,” he grinned at Bill as he made his way past.

“Good morning,” Bill replied, puzzled. “What’s gotten into you?”

Aiden paused mid step. “All I said was good morning.”

“No, you said  _ mornin’ _ ,” Bill mocked his tone, “as you danced in here with what might pass for an actual smile.” She stepped closer, narrowing her eyes, and studied his face curiously.

The subtle grin Aiden had been wearing faded as he took a step away. “You’re always complaining about my frequent irritability and how rude I am. Now you have a problem with my attempt at optimism?”

“It’s just not like you,” Bill admitted. “Is everything all right?”

“Of course, everything’s all right,” Aiden griped and continued his journey toward the back. He stopped at the doorway. “That’s the last time I try and show you some cheer.”

Bill’s eyes followed him as he stepped through the door into the back room, and he heard her mumble, “Sorry,” under her breath.Thankfully, she didn’t press the issue of his good mood...for now.

He stepped into his workspace and donned his apron. He had a large order to fulfill so he jumped right into his work. He laid out an arrangement of flowers and with a pair of shears, he began cleaning the stems of leaves. As he worked he could hear Bill moving around out front and he wondered if she was going to come back and pester him again. He didn’t think a simple good morning would have brought up so many questions. 

After giving it some thought, he realized Bill was right: he was in an uncharacteristically good mood. He couldn’t think why. Nothing significant happened that morning aside from his row with Miss Tyler, but those were becoming a daily occurrence.

He picked up the next flower, a pink rose that matched the tinge of her cheeks as she argued with him that morning. She believed his actions were directed at her alone, as if he went out of his way to bother her.

He laughed at the idea, then paused as he gave it further thought. Many had approached him about his behavior before, but it wasn’t until Miss Tyler moved in below him that he felt the need to retaliate. She was frustrating, insufferable, completely unbearable, and quite possibly the most intriguing woman he’s ever met.  That was the problem, as infuriating as she could be, he couldn’t get her out of his head.

“Doctor?”

Aiden jolted from his thoughts and looked up at Bill. “Yeah?”

She stared at him oddly, “You’ve been admiring that rose for quite some time now. Are you sure everything’s all right?”

“I’m fine,” Aiden grumbled as he made the final snip. He placed the rose aside and heard the door chime. Thankful for the distraction, he waved her away. “Go on then. Do your job and leave me alone to do mine.”

“Fine,” Bill sighed and walked away, stopping at the door to study him once more.

 

* * *

 

 

“Say it with flowers. What do you suppose that means,” Ianto asked Rose after she told him about her most recent encounter with Mr. McGregor.

“I don’t know,” Rose shrugged. “Maybe he thought he was being clever in some way. Since the flowers were sitting there in front of him.”

“You know, flowers have meanings. Maybe there is some flower out there you can give him that tells the recipient something unpleasant.”

Rose was intrigued. “You think there’s a flower like that?” 

“There’s got to be.” Ianto’s eyes lit up as an idea came to mind. “My friend Bill works at a flower shop not too far from here. She might be able to help you come up with something.”

“Where,” Rose asked. “The only flower shop I know of is by my Mum’s salon.”

“It’s about midway between here and that coffee shop you like to stop at in the mornings,” Ianto said. “Most people miss it unless they’re looking for it.”

Rose pondered the idea then laughed it off. “No, I doubt giving him hateful flowers is going to solve anything.”

“Maybe not,” Ianto agreed. “But you’ll never know if you don’t try. Yelling at him hasn’t been very effective, so why not surprise him? I doubt he’ll be expecting you to go through with it.”

* * *

 

As Rose crawled into bed that night, she thought about Ianto’s idea of taking Mr. McGregor’s suggestion and using it against him. Would it even matter, or would it just make things worse?

She rolled onto her side and enjoyed the silence, hoping he’d taken the hint and would finally let her sleep for once. No such luck. The amp kicked on and Rose instinctively rolled over, reaching for the earplugs.

He began warming up. Playing a few experimental chords as Rose squeezed her eyes shut and tried to ignore it. It was useless, the earplugs weren’t blocking the noise this evening and the harder she tried to ignore it, the clearer the sound became.

Astonishingly, Mr. McGregor had found a new way to push Rose’s buttons through song. He began to play the first few chords of a popular song she knew too well, then repeated it several times over in a nonstop loop. Rose lay there, waiting for the next part of the song but it never came. He knew more songs than this, so why else would he be doing this if not to annoy her?

Ten minutes passed, and the loop continued, forcing Rose to get out of bed and try to deal with the issue. Unlike previous times, Rose could still hear the music as she climbed the stairs and wondered if the sound was imprinted in her mind after hearing it several times now. She reached the top and noticed his door was wide open as if waiting for her.

His flat was dimly lit with a soft blue glow coming from above and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust before she spotted him. He was seated on a stool at the center of his living room and appeared to be wearing all black along with the same long black coat she had seen him in before. He was also wearing sunglasses which surprised Rose, given that it was nighttime and he was indoors.

 

* * *

 

Feeling himself being watched, Aiden stopped playing and peered back at her. “Welcome back, Miss Tyler.”

“Do you know how to play the rest of that song,” she snarked. “Or are you trying to drive me mad?”

He readied his fingers on the chords. “There you go again, making this all about you.” He played the same riff again, only now he proceeded to play the rest of the song, just to prove to her that he could.

“What about your other neighbors,” Rose hollered over the music.

“What?”

“Your other neighbors,” Rose yelled louder. “Do they ever complain about the noise?”

“Can’t hear you,” Aiden hollered back.

He smirked. She was clearly perturbed. He could practically read her thoughts:.  _ She could hear him; how could he not hear her? _ Boldly, she entered his flat and marched over to where he sat.

Aiden watched her approach curiously, but his fingers never faltered. Then she had the audacity to unplug his guitar from the amp, immediately cutting the sound off . He gaped at her as she scowled back.

He looked down at his amp and back to her again. Nobody got away with treating his guitar or amp so rudely. Or so he thought, because instead of lashing out like he normally would, all he could do was stare at her, bewildered.

She was first to break the silence. “Can you hear me now?”

“Clearly,” he retorted and stood upright.

She wasn’t letting his height intimidate her, he had to give her that. Looking him directly in the eye, unflinching, she pointed toward his neighbor’s flat. “Don’t your other neighbors complain about you playing so late at night?”

“Them?” Aiden shook his head. “No, they switched units.”

“I can’t imagine why,” Rose responded sarcastically. “Why are you doing this?”

“Just think of this as your own private concert,” Aiden teased.

“I don’t want a private concert,” Rose cried out. “I want to sleep!” She took a deep breath. “If you insist on playing all night, I would appreciate if you would play something else.”

“Fine,” he whined, “I’ll play something else.” He snatched the cable from her hand. “Now go! And shut the door on your way out; I’m catching a draft!”

Rose glared at him one last time before leaving, slamming the door forcefully in the process. Aiden plugged his guitar in and laughed to himself. Aggravating Miss Tyler had become his new favorite hobby and he wasn’t done yet.

He strummed his guitar, choosing a soothing, melodious tune, something to calm Miss Tyler, lull her into a false sense of security. He played for several minutes, imagining her padding back down to her flat, slipping off her dressing gown, and sliding under the covers. She was probably feeling a bloody righteous sense of victory, right at the moment.

Well, he couldn’t let her off with that.

She would just be drifting to sleep, he guessed. 

He reached down and cranked the volume on his amp, choosing a new tune: something loud and fast, an obnoxious earworm he could play on a continuous loop. He was certain it would drive Miss Tyler completely mental. Perfect.

 

* * *

 

The next morning Rose had to force herself out of bed. Despite feeling exhausted from an improper night’s sleep, she was on a mission to put an end to this madness. After a breakfast of cold cereal and another phone call to her landlord to complain about her range still not being repaired, she set off to find this flower shop Ianto had told her about.

After a short walk, she found it exactly where Ianto told her it would be. Rose wondered how she had managed to pass it time and time again without so much as glancing at it.

She approached the door and tugged on the handle labeled  _ pull _ , but it didn’t budge. Instinctively, for reasons she couldn’t fathom, she gave the door a push and it swung open. She stepped inside and took another look at the lettering above the handle, wondering if she read it wrong.

“It’s a trick,” a female voice said from behind the counter next to her. “Sort of a joke, I guess. The owner says if people can’t figure out how to get inside, he’d rather not deal with them.”

The girl fit the description Ianto had given her. “Are you Bill?”

“Yeah.” Bill gave a slight nod. “Can I, maybe, help you with something?”

Rose pulled out a few bank notes and slapped them on the counter. “I’m a friend of Ianto’s and he said you can do anything. So, tell me, how do I passive-aggressively say ‘fuck you’ with a flower?”

Bill gawked at the money. “Uh…”

Judging by Bill’s reaction, Rose knew this was an unusual request and wondered if she was being foolish. Then she heard a low chuckle coming from the back room.

“Oh no,” Rose gasped. She knew that sound.

Mr. McGregor emerged from the back. His chuckle turned into a full bellied laugh when he caught sight of her. He was wearing a navy-blue oxford with the sleeves rolled up and black trousers. Over that he wore a black apron.

His eyes brightened as they met hers. “Miss Tyler, what brings you by?”

“Is this some sort of joke?” she stammered.

Resting his palms on the counter, he leaned closer. “Does it seem like I’m joking?”

“Well, you were just laughing,” Bill pointed out. 

Aiden looked at her over his shoulder, disapprovingly. 

“Sorry,” she muttered.

“I can’t believe I fell for your stupid trick,” Rose spat.

“Not a trick,” he assured her in a strangely calm manner. He snatched a card from a pile on the counter and handed it to her.

Rose read the card aloud, “Gallifrey Flowers.” Below the name was the slogan: “Say it with flowers.”

“You never once mentioned this being your shop.”

“You never asked,” he pointed out.

“Because you’re an arse. Why would I strike up a conversation with you, let alone ask what you do or where you work?” She shoved the card back at him and began to leave. She was halfway out the door when she stepped back in with one final thought. “And for the last time, will you stop with that dreadful guitar playing in the middle of the night. Unlike you, I like to sleep.”

“Dreadful?” he feigned offence. “Just the other day you said I sounded like Keith Richards.”

“Just… GAH!” she cried out, feeling completely flustered and stormed out.

 

* * *

 

Bill was flabbergasted at what she had just witnessed. Not because of the arguing either. She was used to Aiden having loud disagreements with customers, almost uncaring about the fact that it was bad for business. This was different. This was personal.

She studied him as he lounged with his elbows resting on the counter and his legs crossed behind him as he continued to chuckle. “Uh, Doctor?”

He held up his index finger, silently telling her to wait while his eyes danced playfully. He grabbed the money Rose had forgotten on the counter and held it up for her to see.

Sure enough, just as she assumed the Doctor had expected, the door flung open again and Miss Tyler hurried over, snatching the money from his fingers as he held it out to her.

She rushed out and the door slammed behind her for the second time. He was still grinning as he watched the top of her blonde head pass by his window. Straightening up, he looked back at her and his smile fell. “What?”

Bill pointed at the door. “What the hell was that about?”

“Just my obnoxious downstairs neighbor.” He retreated to the back, but if he was hoping to escape, he had another thing coming.

“Obnoxious how? She seemed more annoyed by you than you were with her.”

He returned to the flowers he had been working on before Miss Tyler’s visit. “She makes all kinds of noise and leaves angry notes on my door.” He looked up at Bill with another large grin. “She hates me.”

Bill smiled. “But you like her…”

Aiden chuckled. “No.” He turned his attention to the flowers in front of him.

“I saw that twinkle in your eye when she was here.” Bill grabbed a second set of shears to help him while she probed for answers. “Plus, the whole time she was yelling at you, you were strangely calm. You would never let anyone else speak to you that way.”

Aiden quirked his lips into a smile. “Did it ever occur to you that I was just being courteous?”

“Bollocks!” Bill laughed. “The Queen could walk in right now and you would probably still act like an arse.”

“If the Queen were to walk in right now, I’d charge her double,” Aiden joked.

“Exactly my point,” Bill stated. “You hired me to deal with the public because you have a habit of driving people away. Admit it or not, I think you like this Miss Tyler, and you’ve certainly made an impression on her as well. Only the wrong one. If you keep it up you’re going to drive her away too.”

“Good. Then I won’t have to deal with her pestering me over every move I make.”

Bill sighed, “You’re impossible.” She set the shears down and returned to the front of the shop.

 

* * *

 

Aiden watched Bill leave then continued working. Whatever she was insinuating was ridiculous. This wasn’t some sort of crush. Miss Tyler was entirely too young for him, by about twenty years. If he were to drive her away, so be it. At least he’d be rid of her incessant nagging. It would be best for both of them... Wouldn’t it?

He switched on the radio and turned the volume up as high as it would go. Hoping this would be enough to drown out his current thoughts about Miss Tyler. 

It proved to be an effective strategy and it wasn’t long before he was grooving along to the rhythm of the music while he worked his magic. He hummed along, making a few final adjustments to the bouquet before moving on to the final step, tying it all together. 

Carefully, he began wrapping a long piece of ribbon tape around the stems when a familiar guitar riff pierced his ears, causing him to lose his grip. It was the first song of the two he had been playing to annoy Miss Tyler the night before. Only now it was taunting him through his own radio. 

In a flash, the image of Miss Tyler standing before him in her slippers and dressing gown came to the forefront of his memory. He quickly blinked away that image and looked down to see his hard work now scattered on the floor. 

Frustrated, he grabbed the radio and forcefully yanked the cord from the wall, dropping it into the rubbish bin.  _ As if that would put an end to his madness. _

Letting out an exasperated groan, Aiden dragged his hands down his face. 

_ What was happening to him? _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to hear what Aiden was playing to drive Rose mad, here's the first one. [GunsNRoses](https://youtu.be/vIGlqZYQ8cI) then the next one is [Thunderstruck](https://youtu.be/NxqbOtr1es)  
> If anyone has spent as much time at Guitar Center as I have, you know people do this and it drives me crazy.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again I have to thank TenRoseForeverandever for doing the beta work. If I could highlight all the awesomeness she added I would :)

Rose made a grand entrance as she stormed through the doors of Torchwood that afternoon. Heading straight for the kitchen, she passed Ianto without sparing him a glance. She felt slightly guilty for that, but she was so furious at that moment, she didn’t want to see him.

After putting her belongings away, she went to the sink and began scrubbing her hands vehemently. Footsteps could be heard approaching from behind.

“I’m really not in the mood, Ianto,” she called back, knowing it was him.

She should have known he wasn’t going to listen. “Is everything alright, Rose?”

Rose groaned loudly and yanked a towel down. “No, everything is not all right,” she snapped then turned to him with a murderous glare. “I went to that flower shop you recommended.”

“Oh,” Ianto perked up. “Was Bill able to help you?”

“No. She couldn’t.” Rose finished drying her hands and flung the towel into the bin. “She asked if I needed help, so I told her exactly what I was looking for when her boss suddenly appeared.” Placing her hands on her hips, she glared at him. “Has she told you about her boss?”

“Not really,” Ianto replied with a subtle shrug. “Only that he mostly stays in the back while she works the front because he can be rude and…” Ianto’s eyes widened in realization and he gasped. “Oh no.”

“Oh yes!” Rose began pacing anxiously. “It’s like he was back there, waiting for me to arrive. Once he heard my voice and my ridiculous request, he popped out and began laughing at me.” Her pacing stopped and she fell back against the wall. “It was so humiliating.”

“I’m so sorry, Rose.” Ianto rubbed her shoulder, trying to comfort her. “I honestly had no idea.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Rose assured him. “And I’m sorry for taking this out on you. I’m just so frustrated with everything that’s been happening these past few weeks, and now this.”

Ianto led her away from the kitchen, signaling to another employee to keep an eye on things for a bit, and guided her to his office. As she sat down, he propped himself against his desk.

Rose sank low into her seat and rested her head back to stare at the ceiling. “Who would have guessed that Bill’s rude boss and my arsehole neighbor would turn out to be the same person?”

“To be honest, she hasn’t told me much about him. Only that he can be a bit harsh with his words, but she doesn’t seem to loathe him the way you do.”

Rose lifted her head to look back at him. “Hasn’t his name come up in any of your conversations? You’d think that would be a dead giveaway.”

“No,” Ianto shook his head. “She doesn’t refer to him by his name. She just calls him the Doctor.”

“The Doctor,” Rose repeated curiously with a quirked eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Ianto nodded. “I never asked her why she calls him that. I just assumed it was a nickname.”

Rose snorted. “Seems a bit pretentious if you ask me.” She dropped her head back again with a thud.

“Maybe he  _ is _ a doctor,” Ianto suggested. “I mean… it’s possible.”

“Pfft,” Rose huffed.

Chuckling, Ianto asked, “Does this mean I can start calling him Doctor McGrump now?”

Rose laughed for the first time that day and she felt some of her tension lighten.

A loud clang of pots sounded from outside the office and Rose was suddenly aware of the commotion coming from the kitchen. Peeking out she watched the staff bustling about, looking extremely busy. “I should get out there before they start accusing you of favoritism.”

“Yeah,” Ianto agreed. “I’m sure I’m needed out front as well.”

Rose began to leave as Ianto followed. She spun around, nearly causing him to collide with her, and pointed at him accusingly. “Don’t you go calling your friend, trying to interfere.”

Ianto held up his hands in defense. “No interfering. You have my word.”

She relaxed after that and gave him a quick hug. “Thank you. Maybe now I can get through this shift without wanting to rip my hair out.”

“Good,” Ianto said as they parted. “The last thing I need is to hear my guests complaining about hair in their food.”

* * *

 

They had a steady rush of customers that night, keeping Rose busy in the kitchen. She was glad for that because with her mind occupied on her work, she didn’t have time to reflect upon the morning’s events that had had her fuming just hours before.

Despite the continuous exchange of customers, Ianto still made time to stop in the kitchen to check on Rose, making a few jokes along the way to keep her smiling.

It was times like these that reminded Rose how good a friend Ianto was. Torchwood was everything to him, yet he continued to look out for her well-being above everything else. She could never thank him enough for that.

 

The night was coming to an end and things were finally quieting down in the kitchen. Technically, they were still open. But with an empty dining room Rose took the opportunity to begin cleaning up. Hopefully it stayed quiet.

She stacked a few discarded pans and carried them to the dishwasher. As she returned to her workstation she noticed Ianto peeking into the kitchen warily and he signaled for her to come over.

“Don’t tell me,” Rose groaned as she approached. “Did a big group just walk in at the last minute wanting a late-night dinner?” He slipped into the dining room and she followed him out. To her relief, it was empty except for one table. At that table sat Bill. She stood up when she saw Rose enter and waved to her.

Ianto placed his hand on Rose’s back, as if he were expecting her to run away. (To be honest, he was probably right.) “I promise, I didn’t call her. She just showed up and asked if she could have a word with you.”

“How do you know he didn’t send her here to taunt me again,” Rose remarked and began staring out the window. “He’s probably waiting outside right now, ready to pop in once I come into view.”

Ianto stepped in front of her, looking her in the eye. “I may not have known Bill for nearly as long as I’ve known you, but I do know she has a good heart. Whatever she is here for, it isn’t of ill intent. Just give her two minutes and if you still aren’t comfortable, you come find me and I’ll deal with her.”

Rose glanced back over at Bill who hadn’t moved from the table, giving Rose the option to walk away. “I don’t know,” Rose sighed. “It’s already getting late and I still need to clean and restock.”

“Tell you what…” Ianto loosened his tie and began unbuttoning his jacket, “you go and talk to her and I’ll get started with the clean-up.” Without giving her a chance to answer, he gave her a nudge her in Bill’s direction. She stumbled forward a bit, glowering over her shoulder at Ianto, and he nodded his reassurance. Rolling her eyes in response, she apprehensively walked over to Bill.

“Hi,” Bill greeted her, smiling brightly.

“Hi.” Rose tried to smile in return, but she was exhausted, and to be honest, more than a bit embarrassed about what had happened at the flower shop earlier. She looked back to Ianto for support, but found he had already disappeared back into the kitchen.

“Don’t worry,” Bill reassured, as if she knew what Rose was thinking. “He doesn’t know I’m here.” 

Rose narrowed her eyes. “Then why did you come?”

Bill offered her a chair and Rose took it. As she sat, she noticed a long white box sitting on the table.

Bill took the box and lifted the lid. “I was thinking about what you asked for and I wanted to show you what I found.” She reached into the box and took out a bunch of small purple flowers tied together with some larger pink ones.

Overall, it looked quite lovely in Rose’s opinion, but lovely wasn’t really what she had envisioned when she’d said she was looking for a way to passively aggressively say “Fuck you” in flower. She began to question Bill’s motives, but reminding herself of what Ianto said about Bill’s character, she decided to let her continue.

“These are petunias.” Bill pointed at the smaller, purple flowers. “From what I read, they represent anger and resentment.” She then gestured to  the larger pink ones, “And these are peonies. During Victorian times they were given to enemies after an argument to convey their anger.”

She handed them over and Rose took the small bundle of flowers. “They’re lovely,” Rose commented as she admired them. “I was expecting something less pretty and colorful, so he really understood the message I was sending. Like a black rose or something.”

“He’ll get the message, believe me,” Bill told her. “This is his specialty after all. As for black roses, those are kind of a myth. It wouldn’t matter though, the Doctor cherishes roses. No matter what color they come in.”

Rose nearly laughed at the irony of Bill’s statement.

Next, Bill pulled out a group of orange flowers. “These are orange lilies. Lilies come in many forms and colors, but everywhere I looked, it’s mentioned how orange lilies meant hatred, plain and simple.” Bill placed the flowers back into the box and pushed it toward Rose. “It’s not much, but it’s the best I could do. Most of these things are handled by the Doctor.”

Rose eyed the box suspiciously. “Why are you doing this?”

Bill paused briefly as she considered her answer. “Because he deserves it. I’ve worked for the Doctor for some time now and I know better than anyone he can be an arse.”

“Tell me about it,” Rose laughed despite herself.

“Seriously,” Bill joined in her laughter. “I don’t know how he managed to establish such a popular shop with the way he speaks to some people. I spend more time doing damage control, apologizing for something he said, than I do any other task in that shop.”

“Why do you continue to work for him?” Rose asked.

“Because he’s my friend,” Bill replied simply. Rose must have made a very curious face because Bill laughed before elaborating. “Yes, he’s an arse, but he isn’t exactly a bad person. Do you know what I mean?”

“No, I don’t,” Rose replied. “Ever since the first day I met him he’s been a nightmare. Maybe it’s different for you. You don’t have to live below him.”

“How about living  _ with _ him,” Bill countered.

“What?” Rose was astounded. She couldn’t recall seeing Bill around her building before. Most of all she didn’t know how someone as pleasant as she was could put up with living with a man like Mr. McGregor. Unless… “You two aren’t…”

“NO!” Bill looked mortified. She took a moment to regain her composure and giggled. “No. It was only temporary and only because I had nowhere else to go.”

“Why? If you don’t mind me asking...” she added, almost as an afterthought

“Well… There was this girl.” Bill smiled at the memory, but Rose could see sorrow in her eyes as well. “I met her at the university. She was a student and I worked in the canteen serving chips. After a few months of dating we moved in together. 

“That’s about the time I met the Doctor. I wanted to surprise my girl with some flowers, so I decided to check out his shop. Mostly because of the outlandish stories I’ve heard about him. Most people can’t stand him…”

“I wonder why.” Rose didn’t try to hide her contempt.

“But I find him fascinating and I soon made a habit of stopping by every Saturday to buy flowers. Sometimes I would stay for an hour or two just listening to his stories. 

“Anyway, things at home were going great until her parents decided to make a surprise visit.” Bill’s smile faded. “I guess she had been telling her parents we were only flatmates, nothing more. Once they realized what was really going on they told her to end things immediately or they would stop paying her school and rent.” The sadness in her eyes deepened, “As you can guess. She didn’t choose me.”

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be.” Bill shrugged. “The way I see it, if she really loved me, money wouldn’t have mattered. Sure, it would have been hard, but we would have made it.”

“What did you do?” Rose asked.

“I left,” Bill said plainly. “It was so easy for her to put an end to everything just to appease them. All for money.” The disgust could be heard in her voice. “I couldn’t stand to look at her after that. So, I grabbed everything I could carry and I walked out the door. I walked for nearly an hour before I realized I had nowhere to go.”

“You didn’t have any family you could call, or maybe a friend?” 

“Nah,” Bill answered with a shake of her head. “My mum died when I was a baby and I never knew my dad. As for friends, I suppose I wasn’t ready to admit to them that they had been right about her all along.”

“I know what you mean.” Rose thought back on her own experience of leaving home. “When I was sixteen I ran away with my ex. I was gone for nearly six months before I realized my mistake. When I came back, it was so hard facing everyone. Especially my Mum.

What happened next?” Rose asked, not wanting to turn the conversation to herself and her own past.

“Well, after all that walking, I eventually found myself standing outside Gallifrey Flowers. I don’t know what prompted me to go there, but it seemed like my only option. He wasn’t expecting me that day, but once he saw all my bags, he knew something was up.”

“What did he say?” 

“Nothing really,” Bill replied. “Mostly because I immediately began explaining all that had happened. Including the fact that I couldn’t continue working at the canteen. Not if it meant having to see her again. He didn’t have any advice, but he did offer me a job at his shop. Then he went on about what things I could do for him and what I could learn. Before I knew it, he had me sweeping up and doing a few small jobs as he began closing up. Then he scooped up one of my bags and told me he had a spare room I could use for a while and that was it.”

Rose found Bill’s confession surprising. “And you just went with him? After only knowing him from a few visits to his shop.”

“I know it sounds mad,” Bill explained, “but I knew I could trust him. If it were any other bloke, I would have told him to shove off.”

“How long did that last?” 

“Only a few weeks. It was nice of him to offer me a place to stay. He never complained about me being there or forced me out, but I needed to find a place of my own.”

“I can’t imagine living with him being easy.” Rose rolled her eyes.

“Not if you value your privacy it isn’t. I know it’s his flat and all, but he would just waltz into my room whenever he pleased. Day or night. Going on about some wild thought or new idea he just came up with.” Bill chuckled. “I have to admit, life with the Doctor is rarely boring.”

Rose didn’t share in her amusement. She wasn’t even sure they were still speaking about the same person. Although Bill’s story explained her background with “the Doctor,” it still didn’t fully answer her earlier question. “Again. Why are you doing this? After telling me this whole story about how he helped you when you needed it most and how he’s your friend. Why are you here, trying to help me get back at him?”

“Not everyone knows him the way I do,” Bill admitted. “I’ve seen him quarrel with people more times than I can count. It never really seems to bother him except for today after you left. I can’t explain it, he just seemed… different.”

“I really doubt I affected him that much,” Rose said. “If anything, he was probably busy trying to come up with some new scheme to aggravate me with later.”

“Yeah…” Bill replied skeptically. “I don’t think that’s it. Truthfully, I think he cares more than he lets on and today you struck a nerve. Despite what you may think, your visit was a complete surprise to him and if you back down now, he’ll think he’s won. Don’t quit while you’re ahead, go through with it and let him see that he can’t intimidate you.”

“Fine,” Rose sighed as she pulled the box closer, “I’ll think about it.” She glanced back at the kitchen door. “I think I should get back to work. If I don’t, Ianto will start reorganizing the kitchen and I won’t be able to find anything tomorrow.”

Bill laughed. “Yeah, I should get going too. It was good meeting you… uh… what’s your first name?”

“Rose.” She didn’t miss the way Bill’s face lit up after she said it.

“Goodnight, Rose.” Bill smiled and headed out the door.

“Wait,” Rose called out to her before she got away. “Why do you call him the Doctor?”

Bill paused then shrugged. “It’s just what I like to call him.” With a final wave, she left.

“Right,” Rose muttered to herself in confusion. As she wandered back to the kitchen, she seriously considered tossing the box into the bin. She lifted the lid again and glanced at the flowers. Seeing how much work Bill put into this for her, she thought it would be wrong to let it go to waste. She couldn’t let him think he’d won. He’d be insufferable.

 

Later that night as Rose arrived home she made a quick detour upstairs. Hearing her neighbor already wailing on his guitar, Rose rolled her eyes. She placed the box on his doorstep and quickly retreated. As she stepped into her flat she felt a small wave of satisfaction. Maybe Bill was right and this would teach the git to back off.  

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, this chapter has been made better by my beta TenRoseForeverandever <3

It was well into the wee hours of the morning and Aiden played his guitar until his fingers ached and his eyelids grew heavy. His neighbor had been unusually silent tonight. He cranked the volume a bit higher and hopped a few times on the floor right above where he knew her bedroom would be, just to be sure she got frustrated. Still no sign of the pesky Miss Tyler.

He glanced at the time. It was past 3 a.m., and even he was growing tired of listening to himself play. Flipping the switch on his amp off, Aiden placed the guitar in its stand and flopped onto his couch. Groaning, he dragged his hands down his face and rubbed his tired eyes.

_ Maybe she had finally given up trying to fight him?  _ That would be disappointing, but no. Judging by her behavior this morning, she still had plenty of fight left in her.

It was possible she wasn’t even home, and he’d just stayed up half the night playing to an empty flat.

Now his mind was racing with possible reasons why she wouldn’t have come home, each scenario worse than the next, and he leapt to his feet ready to scream.

“Will you stop letting her get to you,” he argued with himself and began to pace about the living room. “If she’s not home, it’s none of your business. Or maybe she’s too tired to argue and she didn’t bother stopping by.” He stopped in his tracks. “Or maybe she didn’t bother knocking and left another note instead…” He spun on his heel and hurried to his door, flinging it open, and there it was. A gift left by Miss Tyler.

Curiously, he picked up the familiar looking box and lifted the lid. He began to chuckle. “Oh, this is brilliant.” Closing the door, he carried the box inside, set it down, and removed the flowers.  _ So, she hadn’t given up after all. _

Now it was his turn to pick up the gauntlet again. He brought the flowers to his nose and breathed in the aroma as he began to pace about the room, plotting his next move.  _ What could he do that he hadn’t done before? _

He studied the flowers in his hand. It was obvious Bill had put them together, and he supposed they weren’t all too bad looking. He recognized the lily as one he had removed from stock due to an unsightly defect to one of its petals, something he’d overlooked when he’d purchased them. The peony was at its early stages of wilting and had most likely been pulled from his inventory, as well, as not being suitable for sale.

He had to give Bill credit for thinking to use the discarded flowers to fulfill Miss Tyler’s request. But now, as he looked at them, the defects didn't appear all that bad. They were rather appealing actually. Of course, the message was clear, but he’d already known her intentions when she’d come to the shop earlier. And Bill had done brilliantly, filling the order.

Suddenly, it came to him. A way to get back at Miss Tyler; his most devious plan yet. He couldn’t help but laugh at the reaction she was bound to have.

* * *

 

Bill arrived to the shop at her usual time, ten minutes prior to opening. Upon unlocking the door, she stepped in and her heart nearly stopped when she spotted the Doctor waiting silently at the counter.

“You scared the hell out of me!” Bill gasped. “Why are you lurking here in the dark?”

Without saying anything, he pushed a vase forward and Bill immediately recognized the flowers as the ones she’d offered to Rose the previous night.  _ Had Rose told him where she got the flowers from?  _

“What’s with the flowers?” Hopefully she didn’t sound as guilty as she felt.

“You tell me,” he countered.

Bill laughed nervously. “I’m not sure what you’re gettin’ at.”

“I found these on my doorstep last night.” The Doctor delicately stroked one of the lily’s petals.

“Maybe you have an admirer,” Bill suggested.

“Hmph,” he laughed mockingly, “you know as well as I do that is not the case. I think what happened is that you helped Miss Tyler fulfil her request after she left yesterday.”

“Or maybe she visited another shop and they were able to help her.” She shrugged, and put on her very best how-should-I-know face.

“Maybe she did. Except…” he pulled out the flower box and placed it on the counter for her to see, “…they arrived in one of my boxes.” He pointed at the name of his shop, stamped onto the inside of the lid.

“Oh,” Bill muttered. She hadn’t considered that minor detail. Big fat glaring detail, actually. “You mean they didn’t arrive in that vase?”

“Well,” the Doctor stammered. “As a florist, I couldn’t just leave them in that box to wither and die.”

“And the greenery?” Bill couldn’t help but smile as she noticed the added details. He obviously put a lot of care into making them presentable. “I know I didn’t add any accents to the bouquet.”

The Doctor paled and glanced down at the flowers. Quickly pushing them out of view, he began to argue. “Which is why I don’t let you arrange the flowers. They were a bloody mess when I first got them.”

“Look, I was just doing my job. A customer came in looking for help and you scared her off. So, I did some research and brought the flowers to her. I even used the flowers you pulled from stock to be disposed of. You could say I went above and beyond what is expected of me.”

“I didn’t expect you to do anything,” the Doctor growled back. “I know you’ve got this whole idea that I may fancy Miss Tyler and-”

“Rose,” Bill corrected him.

His eyebrows drew together. “What?”

Bill rolled her eyes at the fact that he hadn’t even bothered to learn her actual name. “Her name is Rose.”

His face relaxed for a quick second and Bill knew if she’d blinked, she would’ve missed it. Returning to his defensive stance he attempted to continue. “Anyway, I….” He seemed puzzled, which caused him to become more cross. “Your blabbering made me to forget what I was saying.”

_ Well that’s different. _

He groaned and glanced over at the clock. “Why don’t you take the day off? I can handle things around here today.”

“What?”

“You heard me,” he snapped. “Go home and take this as a warning not to meddle in my personal life again.”

Shocked by his reaction, Bill attempted to negotiate with him. “Doctor, I really don’t think that’s wise-”

“I’ve done it before and I can certainly do it again.” He glanced at the clock once more. “Now go… and go out the back way.” He pointed to the back room where the discarded flowers were piled in a heap by the work table. “Take those flowers with you. Either toss them in the dumpster or take them home, since you seem to enjoy stealing my scraps.”

“Fine.” She was in no mood to argue. Bill huffed and tramped into the back room and began scooping up the pile of unsold flowers, taking a moment to glance at a few of them she considered keeping.

He poked his head in the door. “You’re still here? Will you leave so I can finish opening and get to my work!”

Bill grabbed the remaining flowers and glared at him as she strode past and out the door. The door was slammed shut behind her, followed by a decisive click of the lock.  _ As if that’s really necessary. _

She went to the dumpster, grumbling that she was doing this for him. In retrospect, she wasn’t sure what her plan had been in giving Rose those flowers, but she’d had a theory that had made sense at the time. Only now it seemed to have backfired on her.

Bill took one last look at the flowers and decided they weren’t ready to be tossed. Cradling them in one arm, she headed home to find a better use for them. She didn’t mind all that much, having a day to herself, even if it was meant to be a reprimand. The Doctor could use a day to cool off, and this way, she didn’t have to deal with the plonker’s horrid temper. Besides, after having to deal with “irritating” customers all day, he would be ecstatic to see her return tomorrow.

_ But why had he been so eager for her to leave in the first place? _

* * *

 

Aiden was furious at Bill for interfering where she had no business, and took no small amount of pleasure in startling her when she walked through the front door. But, credit where credit was due, she’d also set him up for a marvelous plan that he was sure would drive his neighbor mad… again. He just needed her to leave (immediately!) because if he was right, Miss Ty- Rose could be there at any moment. He peered at the clock. It was just after eight and the shop was now officially open.

“Now go…” he snapped at Bill and surreptitiously glanced out the window. Sure enough, there was Mis- Rose and although she was still quite a way down the road, he could see that she looked furious as she marched toward his shop. “…and go out the back way. Take those flowers with you. Either toss them in the dumpster or take them home since you seem to enjoy stealing my scraps.” He couldn’t have Bill walking out and seeing Mi- Rose coming in. He could only imagine the wild ideas she would have after seeing that.

He watched Bill step into the back and he quickly stashed the vase of flowers below the counter and out of view. Next, he dashed to the front door to be sure it was unlocked and turned his “open” sign. 

As he made his way back to the counter, he caught a glimpse of himself in one of the glass doors of a refrigerator full of pre-arranged flowers. _ When was the last time he’d had a haircut?  _ He ran his hand across the wild mess in an attempt to tame it.  _ Meh, why does it matter? _

Glimpsing out the window again he realized he had only about one minute and he still hadn’t heard Bill leave. He rushed to the back and shouted, “You’re still here? Will you leave so I can finish opening and get to my work!”

He knew she was angry with him by the look she gave him.  _ She’ll get over it.  _ Once she was finally gone, he quickly slammed the door and locked it to keep her from slipping back in.

He allowed himself a sigh of relief. Bill had left just in time. Seconds later, the bell over the door chimed. Reflexively, he combed his fingers through his hair again. "Showtime,"he muttered to himself as he stuck his hands in his pockets and casually strolled out, grinning from ear to ear.

There was no room for the social pleasantries normal people would engage in. His mental neighbor simply strode up to the counter, eyes flashing amber and cheeks flushed, and slapped a piece of paper down in front of him. “What the hell is this?” she demanded. 

“That would be a bill.” He felt a rush of exhilaration at knowing his plan was working, and his grin grew wider. “I know how you kids prefer doing everything on your phones nowadays, so I’m sure you’ve never seen one in person.”

“I know what a bill is,” she snapped. “What I’m asking is, what the hell are you billing me for?”

“For the flowers you so graciously left for me last night.” He leaned toward her. “Thank you, by the way.”

“What makes you assume they were from me?” she challenged.

_ Clever girl. If he weren’t so smart, he’d almost believe her. _

“Nothing says I hate you better than an orange lily,” he proclaimed. “And after your humorous request yesterday, I knew immediately who they were from. However, petunias could mean anger or they could mean comfort and the desire to spend time with someone. As for peonies, they have a double meaning too: anger and shame, or romance between two strangers. I must say,” he smirked at her, “I’m getting mixed signals here.”

“Wha…“ Her jaw dropped and her face reddened, but she didn’t utter another sound.

_ By gods, he’d broken her! _

“That’s not…” she began stammering. “I mean… maybe it was Bill who left them for you, after taking my idea.”

“Doubtful,” he said. “She doesn’t even know where I live.” It was a lie but a strategic one. One that would utterly invalidate her argument.

“Liar,” she corrected him immediately. “Just last night she was telling me that… shit.” She berated herself for falling for his trick. Shaking her head, she turned their attention back to the bill in question. “Fine, whatever. Just tell me this: I understand the £15 for the flowers but what is the £25 fee for?”

“Well that’s the delivery fee,” he told her simply. “I didn’t see you leave here with any flowers, so I assume they were conveniently brought to you by my employee.”

“Not that I asked her to,” Rose shouted. “I had no intentions of purchasing any flowers from you. She’s the one who took the initiative to show up at my job and give them to me.”

“So, you’re telling me that she took ‘my’ flowers and just gave them away with no intentions of charging you?” He pretended to be appalled by this revelation. He reached for his phone as if to call Bill. “Well, I can’t have employees stealing from me…”

“No,” Rose shouted. “I’ll pay for them, okay? Don’t blame Bill for this, she was just trying to help.”

Smiling, he slipped the phone back into his pocket. “That’s very noble of you. For that, I will waive the delivery fee.”

“You’re so kind,” she replied sarcastically. Reaching into her hand bag, she grabbed the money and tossed it at him.

Turning, she stomped to the door and, as she opened it, he called out, “Have a fabulous day... Rose!” She glanced back and narrowed her eyes at him. He gave her a cheeky wink, grinning like a loon.

The door slammed closed and Aiden laughed to himself. That had turned out even better than expected. Walking toward the back room he thought nothing could ruin his day now. Then the door chimed and he turned, frowning as a customer came strolling in. Aiden groaned as he remembered he had sent Bill home for the day.  _ Well, fuck. _

* * *

Rose had barely made it down the road when she stopped to bury her face in the side of her hand bag to scream her frustration. She took several deep breaths and lowered the bag, to find several people staring at her. Choosing to ignore them, she headed straight for Torchwood. She had told Ianto she would help him with inventory today and she was beginning to regret it, not just because she was furious right now, but she was exhausted as well since Mr. McGregor had chosen to play an extra long session the night before. She was positive, now, he was doing it all to spite her, especially once he had begun to jump around.

Rose was grateful the walk to Torchwood wasn’t long because the clouds were growing darker by the minute. If she didn’t hurry, she could get caught in the rain and that would probably send her over the edge.

A few raindrops landed on her as she reached the door and flung it open. There was Ianto, sitting at one of the tables. He looked up from the clipboard where he was writing. The second their eyes met and he noticed her enraged state, thunder cracked and the lights flickered. It could not have been any more ironic.

Ianto placed the clipboard aside and pushed a chair out with his foot. “Out with it,” he told her.

Rose marched over, not bothering to sit because she couldn’t relax at a time like this. Crossing her arms, she looked down at him. “Remember those flowers your friend gave me, insisting I carry through with my plan?”

He swallowed nervously. “Yes.”

“Well, I’ve just come from that manky little shop of his, after paying a bill he left on my door this morning.” She paced around him. “£15 and that’s only after he waived the £25 delivery fee.” She laughed mockingly at the audacity of it all. “He said it like he was doing me a favor.”

Ianto got to his feet and grabbed Rose by the shoulders. Gently, he eased her into the chair and sat back down. “I know you don’t like the idea of it, but maybe you should consider moving.”

“No,” Rose said. “I didn’t work my arse off, and get free of the estate, only to let some wanker scare me off.”

Ianto sighed. “Then what do you plan to do? It just seems to be getting worse.”

“I don’t know,” Rose whined. She honestly didn’t. 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to say thanks for reading and for all of the comments and kudos I've been getting. I didn't know so many people would enjoy this fic as much as you've all been telling me. I need to write more Twelve in the future.  
> Also, a big thank you to TenRoseForeverandever for putting up with me and continuing to beta this :)

Rose looked out at the downpour, exhausted, bracing herself to step into the wind and rain. She was not looking forward to her journey home, but she couldn’t wait to climb into her warm bed and go to sleep. It was all she had been thinking about for the past several hours. She only hoped that arsehole, Mr. McGregor, would allow her some peace and quiet tonight. 

The storm had grown steadily worse throughout the day, and they had seen very few customers at Torchwood, save for a few brave souls willing to venture into the howling wind and driving rain.

To be honest, Rose was grateful for the quiet the storm had brought. It had given she and Ianto plenty of time to finally finish the inventory. Now, with no new customers since just after lunch, Ianto had decided to close up a couple of hours early.

He came to her side, ready to lock up, and stared out at the pouring rain. “I can give you a lift home.”

He always offered her a ride and she usually turned him down, but tonight it sounded bloody brilliant. They lifted their coats above their heads to shield themselves from the rain and rushed to Ianto’s car.   
  


It was soon warm, and the soothing motion of the car helped lull Rose to sleep. She was wakened a little while later by a gentle shake of her arm. Ianto smiled at her. “Would you like me to escort you to your door?” he asked. “In case McGrump wants to give you a hard time.”

Rose looked out the window. The rain was coming down in sheets and it pounded violently against the roof of the car. Ianto had kindly pulled up as close to the door of her building as the road would allow.

“No, ta. I doubt that prat would dare to go out in this weather. Even if it was to drive me mad.” The thunder boomed, and she smiled to herself. “Maybe if I’m lucky, the power will go out and he won’t be able to play that wretched guitar all night.”

“For your sake, I hope it does. You look exhausted.”

Rose frowned back. “Thanks for that.”

He chuckled, “I’m kidding,” and reached out for a small hug.

Rose hugged him back. She knew well enough not to take her friend’s comment personally, but she could only imagine how terrible she must look for him to have mentioned it at all.. Bracing herself, Rose leapt out of the car and dashed toward her flat. Once she reached her door, she turned back into the violent wind to give Ianto a quick wave. As he pulled away from the kerb, she huddled over her handbag to retrieve her keys. Although she had a bit of cover from above, it didn’t protect her from the horizontal rain soaking her from behind.

Rose’s heart began slamming in her chest as she dug around, but couldn’t find her keys. She reached inside her coat pockets and checked her handbag again.  _ NO, NO, NO!   _ She retraced her steps and began to remember her shock that morning when she found that bill taped to her door. She hadn’t bothered double checking for her keys when she had stormed out.

It had only been a couple of minutes since Ianto had dropped her off. He couldn’t have gotten very far, especially in this weather. She reached into her coat pocket for her mobile. Her hands wet and trembling, she pressed the power button, and to her horror, the phone was dead.  _ Why hadn’t she thought to charge it? They hadn’t even been busy. _

“Why?” Rose cried out and smacked her forehead against her door. She didn’t know what else to do but to walk to the bus and go to her mum’s for the night. It wasn’t a far walk, but as the wind whipped across her back, she felt the icy chill as deep as her bones.

_ Can this day get any worse? _

Taking a deep breath, she prepared herself for the miserable journey she was about to endure. She pushed away from the door, and turned around to face the wind. “Holy Fuck!” she screamed. Mr. McGregor had been standing directly behind her. He was wearing his long, black coat and was holding an umbrella, looking satisfyingly dry.

“What the hell are you doing?” she hollered at him, through the wind. “Do you do this every night? Stand around, waiting to see when I get home, before you commence with whatever torture you have planned for me?”

“Of course not,” he sneered. “I had a lot of work to catch up on after closing since Bill had the day off, and I was obligated with the unpleasant task of dealing with a bunch of blubbering idiots.” 

Shaking her head at his comment, Rose shifted to the side where the wind and rain had been blocked by his umbrella.

He glanced at her door and back to her. “Anything wrong?”

“No,” she lied, brushing away a wet strand of hair clinging to her cheek. “Just getting home.”

“Then why are you standing out here in the rain?”

“Maybe I enjoy it.” Another powerful blast of cold wind rammed into her, causing her teeth to chatter.  “Fine…” she glanced away, feeling utterly devastated and far too exhausted to put up a fight, “I locked my keys in my flat.”

Remembering he had been the reason she was currently living this nightmare, rage rushed through her. “This is entirely your fault actually! You and that fuckin’ bill!”

Smirking, he reached inside his coat, pulled out his mobile, and stepped away. Of course, he enjoyed seeing her suffer. He probably wanted to take a souvenir photo before going up to his bloody flat, where he’d be warm and dry, to laugh at her. She held her coat closed tightly and began to make a hasty retreat before he could find something else to do or say to make things worse. As if that were possible.

“Where the hell are you going?” he called out after her.

She ignored him, moving as fast as her icy legs would allow her, which wasn’t fast enough. Although the rain pummeled loudly against the pavement and the wind wailed past her ears, she could still hear his stupid Scottish accent calling her name, and it was growing louder as he quickly caught up to her.

He darted in front of her and shoved his umbrella into her hand. “Stop being so stubborn and wait,” he barked. He returned to his call, muttering a few last words into it before hanging up. He slipped his phone into his pocket. “I know a locksmith who owes me a favor. He said it might be a while, but he’ll be here.”

Rose stood where he had left her, holding the umbrella, watching as he proceeded to walk away and up the stairs. He stopped midway and turned to her. “Are you coming? Or are you planning on waiting out here in the rain until he arrives?”

Weighing her options, Rose considered taking her chances with the rain, or perhaps going with her original plan of taking the bus to her mum’s. As much as she really hated it, she found herself tempted by the idea of the nearby shelter of his flat, and decided to take him up on his offer.  _ But at what cost?  _ She dragged her feet hesitantly toward the stairs, following him up. With each step she took, she couldn’t help but feel as if she were walking into a trap.

* * *

_ What the fuck is wrong with you? This is a terrible idea! She is going to be impossible, and this blasted locksmith could take hours. _

Aiden continued to berate himself as he unlocked his door and stepped into his flat, followed by Rose, who didn’t utter a sound and refused to look at him.  _ You should have kept walking and left her to deal with her own fucking problems. _

After she crossed the threshold, Aiden closed the door and turned to look at the weary Miss Tyler.  _ Rose. _ She was bedraggled from the wind and soaked to the skin. She kept her arms tightly wrapped around herself, and bounced lightly on her toes in an effort to generate warmth.

Aiden removed his coat and hung it on the hook, staring at her vacantly. Say _ something you twit! _

He cleared his throat. “Just don’t overstay your welcome.”  _ What the fuck! _

Narrowing her eyes in disgust, she gritted through her teeth, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Right...” He sure bolloxed that up.  _ Make her feel welcome, ya numpty. _ “You’d probably feel more comfortable if you took off your coat.”

He reached toward her, attempting to help her remove it, when Rose batted his hands away. “I can do it!” She stepped back to widen the distance between them and shrugged off her soggy coat, shoving it into his arms. A few droplets splashed him in the face and he felt his shirt dampening from where it pressed into him.

Biting his tongue, he hung it up, wondering what he was supposed to do now. He walked further inside and into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of Scotch. He held up the bottle, showing it to Rose who was still huddled by the door, shivering. “Care for some?” 

“May as well,” she huffed and moped inside, keeping her arms crossed. She looked like she could use a stiff drink, Aiden thought as he filled her glass. If anything, it would help warm her up. He knew he could use one, to give him the strength to deal with her, if nothing else, and offered himself a generous amount. 

Handing her a glass, he saluted her with his own, “Cheers,” and took a sip, watching her from the corner of his eye as she subtly tasted her own drink and winced.

Aiden let out a long breath and stared down into the amber liquid while drumming his fingers against the side of his glass. It was uncomfortably quiet as he searched his mind for something to say that wouldn’t come off as rude.

He raised his eyes back to her. “How long have you worked for Torchwood?”

Her brows drew downward and her nose crinkled. “How did you know I work for Torchwood?” 

He gave a pointed look to her chef’s jacket with the name “Torchwood” embroidered over her left breast pocket.

“Oh...” she muttered, keeping her eyes focused on the drink she cradled in her hands. There was a small pause before she answered. “ About a year now.”

“You’re a chef?”

Her eyes shot up, piercing his coldly. “ _ Head _ chef,” she snapped.

Aiden raised his drink to his tightly pressed lips, fearing what he might say. He was determined not to let her cheek get the best of him. “Ah,” he responded simply before taking a sip.

The room fell silent once again. Rose peeked around him to see the time on his microwave and blew out her cheeks, turning away. She strolled into the living room, gazing around curiously, as if she were seeing it all for the first time. In retrospect, that was exactly what she was doing. Her other visits had been brief and not entirely friendly, so she hadn’t had a chance to see anything.

Aiden trailed several paces behind her while she explored his flat, neither of them uttering a sound.

She looked toward the corner of the room, her eyes falling on his upright piano. The light glistening off its black gloss finish like a homing beacon. “You play piano, too?”

“When I fancy it.” He stopped at the center of the room, watching her approach it inquisitively.

Lifting the fallboard, Rose dragged her fingers across the keys, a glissando breaking the silence of the room. “Did your mum force you to take music lessons all your life or something?”

“Only piano,” Aiden shrugged. “It’s what she had preferred I play. I had three lessons before I grew tired of playing Mary had a Little Lamb continuously for an hour a day, every day. So I decided to teach myself something a bit more fun.”

“You taught yourself?” Rose questioned with a little scoff of disbelief.

“It’s not hard. I just watched others, paid attention to the notes, and copied what they did. I did the same with guitar, bass, drums…”

Her eyebrow raised high. “You’re saying you can play anything?”

“Anything I’ve tried,” he admitted indifferently. “You should see me on the triangle.” He waggled his eyebrows playfully.

Rose surprised him with a small giggle. “You think you’re so impressive!”

_ Was she laughing at him, or was this a challenge?  _ He held his head high. “I am so impressive,” he growled.

“You wish!” She took another sip of her drink and cringed before clearing her throat. “Why can’t you play piano all night, instead? It’d probably be easier to fall asleep to than that blasted guitar.”

“Again about the guitar!” Aiden groaned, striding back and forth, his frustration building. He stopped and pointed at her accusingly. “You know I don’t go downstairs and complain to you about your singing in the shower.”

Rose’s mouth gaped, and her eyes widened in horror. “You can hear that?”

“Clearly.” He grinned mischievously. “You’re usually a bit pitchy at the beginning, but it’s not horrendous.”

“I am not pitchy,” she argued. She held her hand up, stopping him from making another comment. “Nevermind… Can we come to an agreement? If you stop playing guitar by, I don’t know… eleven, I’ll stop singing in the shower.”

Aiden felt his heart stutter. “No!”  He paused, calming his features in hopes of not seeming anxious. “I mean, not about stopping at eleven… although that’s a bit ludicrous, but... you don’t have to stop with the singing… I- I think the plants enjoy it.” He gestured at the plants surrounding the room.”

Rose knitted her brow, her mouth twitching up in bemusement. “The plants enjoy my singing?”

“You tell me…” Aiden approached a nearby ficus and fluffed the leaves. “They’ve gotten much fuller since you’ve moved in.”

Rose stared around the room. “That’s another thing. Why so many plants and flowers?”

“I’m a florist, that’s what I do. I don’t ask why you cook your meals.”

“Yeah, but we all have to eat. Besides, I haven’t been able to cook anything since my range quit on me.” Rose groused. “The landlord must be on your side. I’ve been bugging him to fix it for days now.”

“Well, if you’ve been pestering him and driving him up the wall the way you do with me, I wouldn’t blame him for ignoring you.”

Rose’s jaw clenched and she slammed her glass down onto the table beside her. “Can you ever have a conversation without being a total arse? I don’t even want to be here! I’d much rather be in my flat, sleeping in my bed, without some wanker keeping me up half the night with his bloody guitar!”

She clenched her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, breathing deeply. She began stepping away. “You know what? I think I’d much rather sit downstairs and wait for the locksmith. Alone!”

_ Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!  _ Aiden quickly walked behind her. “Rose, wait.” He pleaded, surprising himself at how meek he had sounded. “I… I don’t know why I say the things that I do, but don’t leave because of my stupid, idiotic, uncontrollable mouth.” He stuck his hands in his pockets and toed the floor, mumbling, “I’m… sorry.”

Rose spun around. “Sorry for what?” She crossed her arms, staring him down. “For calling me annoying, for leaving me that ridiculous bill which caused me to lock myself out of my flat, for making it impossible for me to relax on my own patio, or for making so much noise at night I can’t get a decent night’s sleep?”

_ It does seem excessive when she adds it all up like that.  _ He lowered his head humbly, and rubbed the back of his neck. Gazing up at her through his eyebrows he mumbled, “For the annoying part…”  _ You idiot! _

Rolling her eyes, Rose turned away and went for her coat.

“And the guitar,” Aiden added urgently. “If you really want me to stop playing by eleven… I suppose I can agree to that. But don’t make yourself sit out in the cold and rain just because you want to avoid me.”

The wind howled once more, rattling the windows. Rose sighed and dropped her head, rubbing her tired eyes. “Did the locksmith give you any idea how long he was going to be?”

Aiden glanced at his watch. It had only been thirty minutes since he called the locksmith, and he had already managed to enrage Rose to the point of wanting to run. “Not really. He said he had another call he was headed to and with this weather, it could be a while.”

Rose threw her head back and whined, stomping her foot. “Just one day, I’d like to come home and relax without something going wrong. I had more peace living on the estate.”

Her statement felt like a stab to the heart. He had never bothered learning anything about Rose: where she came from or what she had done to get to where she was now. As much fun as he’d been having pestering her, he never truly considered the toll it was taking on her. Knowing he was fully responsible made him feel remorseful.

“Tell you what…” Aiden took her shoulders, feeling her stiffen up beneath his hands, and turned her around to lead her back into the living room. She didn’t resist very much, but she did drag her feet a little as he walked her toward the couch. “Why don’t you have a seat, take a load off, do whatever relaxes you, and I’ll keep my trap shut for once.”

“Doubtful,” Rose grumbled as she sat down. “Of course, I’m sure you’ll find other ways to torment me.”

Aiden picked up her abandoned glass of Scotch and placed it in her hand. “No tricks. You have my word,” he told her quietly, putting on his most trustworthy face.

He turned away and heard her mutter something about his word not being worth anything under her breath.

Fighting the urge to react with a snide comment, he clenched his fists and left the room. He went straight to his bedroom, and began pacing fitfully, pulling at his hair. He was frustrated beyond a doubt. He fought the urge to defend himself, to tell Rose to stop being stubborn and let him help her.

But, that wasn’t exactly what was eating away at him. Truth be told, he was furious with himself for being so foul, boorish, and ill-mannered that Rose couldn’t even allow herself to take shelter from the storm because she couldn’t stand being in the same room as him. Did he even know how to be gracious anymore? Or was he so hostile nowadays that it had just become ingrained into his personality?

_ You can do this.  _ He just needed to keep his stupid mouth shut for a change.

He grabbed a spare blanket and marched back out, seeing Rose huddled in the same corner of the couch where he had left her. He paused, afraid to approach her. Even in her melancholy state, with tousled hair and wind swept cheeks, he was forced to admit, she looked stunning. She stared down at her glass, tracing her finger around the rim seemingly deep in thought. She heaved a sigh, raising her head to look back at him and he was suddenly aware that he’d been staring. Slowly, he began shuffling forward, handing the blanket over, “I figured you’d like to warm up a little.”

She accepted the blanket but didn’t speak. Instead, just cast her gaze downward once more.

Aiden backed away cautiously, not taking his eyes off her as he eased carefully into the chair across from her. It was quiet between them. Only the sound of the wind and rain filled their silence.

Rose sipped her drink again, not reacting to the flavor so harshly anymore, and yawned.

Aiden’s lips parted, ready to speak, when he remembered his vow and shut his trap before he said something foolish. Picking up his glass, he leaned back and stared out the window, watching a flash of lightning brighten the sky as he sipped his drink. He wondered how he was going to survive this night without reverting to being an idiot.

He looked around the room, thinking of ways to occupy himself and smirked, knowing he hadn’t promised to be  _ completely _ silent. He’d only promised not to speak. He got to his feet and strolled across the room, setting his drink down on top of the piano before having a seat on the bench. Cracking his knuckles for dramatic effect, he settled his fingers on the keys and began playing a peaceful melody he hoped Rose would find soothing.

It was a rocky start. Aiden was out of practice, and he hit a few sour notes at the beginning, causing him to grumble wordlessly under his breath, but it wasn’t long before he fell into a natural rhythm.

He didn’t know the name of the song he was playing. He just remembered it from childhood memories; one of the songs his mother often enjoyed listening to him play. As he neared the end, he gracefully eased into the next one. Another song whose name was forgotten, but a pleasant one.

By the end of the third song, he chanced a small glance over his shoulder at Rose and found her soundly asleep, with her head propped on the arm of the couch, her legs curled up, and his blanket wrapped around her. She was quite the sight, fully at peace for once.

His fingers slipped, breaking the rhythm and he snapped his head around, hoping his error didn’t disturb her.   
  


An hour passed, and he was still playing, when he heard a light rap at the door. Aiden looked at Rose, who didn’t stir, and he stood to answer it. He stepped out, speaking quietly with the locksmith, sending him down to her door while he went back inside to wake Rose.

She was deeply asleep now, and as he looked down at her, he took a moment to admire her up close. Her face was fully relaxed and she seemed so fragile, nothing like the resilient fighter he knew her to be.

He was reluctant to touch her, not wanting to disturb her now that she was at ease, but he knew she’d be much more comfortable in her own bed. Touching her shoulder, he gave her a gentle shake. She responded by groaning and pulling the blanket over her head. He smiled and shook her a little more firmly, clearing his throat loudly.

Lowering the blanket, she parted one eye and peered up at him.

“The locksmith’s here,” he whispered, with a soft smile. “He’s unlocking your door now.”

Rose pushed herself into a sitting position. Her eyelids were heavy, and Aiden found her slightly mussed hair amusing. 

He reached a hand out to help her up and was surprised she accepted his help, but she was tired and most likely not thinking about it.

She trudged to the door, pulling the blanket off when Aiden stopped her. “Keep it for now. Your coat’s wet and it’s freezing.”

She nodded sleepily, and he handed over her coat  for her to take with her.

He opened the door. Luckily the rain had stopped for now, but the wind still wafted inside, giving him a chill. Rose gave him a slight wave and “almost” a smile before tightening the blanket around herself and leaving him alone.

He waited, watching her totter downstairs to her flat. She spoke to the locksmith briefly and he listened until he heard her door close, knowing she was safely inside.

He shut his own door. Feeling the night wasn’t a total loss, he smiled. It may have started off horribly, but it had ended with Rose feeling content and letting herself rest.

He returned to the piano. Taking a seat, he reached for his glass of Scotch and finished it, before resuming the song he had been playing before the locksmith had interrupted him.. He had to admit, it was a rather peaceful tune, and he took comfort in knowing that Rose was getting the rest she deserved tonight.

Maybe it wasn’t too late for him to reverse the damage that had been done. Only, he didn’t know how that could ever be possible.


	6. Chapter 6

Rose stood in her kitchen, quietly watching as the long-awaited repairman fixed her broken range. She was having a very good day. Not just because she was getting the repair done, but she’d also managed to claim herself a scone that morning before they were all sold out. Spirits soaring, she savoured every bite; the taste of victory was delicious.

The only drawback had been a brief run-in with her infamous neighbor as she was leaving the coffee shop. She hadn’t expected to see him so soon and the mere sight of him caused her heart to race. Not that she feared him, quite the opposite, but he did have a talent for putting her in a foul mood. Doing the only sensible thing she could think of, she’d kept her head low, walked past him and out the door without so much as a “Hello.”

Maybe it was rude of her, given how he’d helped her the night before, but his one act of kindness after what felt like an eternity of torture didn’t change the nature of their relationship. He was still the same man and she despised him.

Hatred aside, it had been refreshing to have a somewhat normal conversation with him the previous evening, rather than a screaming match that ended in slamming doors, and guitar music keeping her awake throughout the night. 

He’d almost seemed sincere. Human even. Maybe, if only he’d been like that when they’d first met, things could have been different between them. Still, the idea of being friends with a man like Mr. McGregor seemed laughable, regardless of what Bill had told her.

As she stared blankly at the bald spot of the man doing the repair, lost in her own thoughts, her mobile began to ring. Snapping out of her daze, Rose pulled her phone from her pocket and looked at the screen. Ianto.

“Don’t tell me you’re calling me in on my day off,” Rose grumbled into the device. “I’ve been having such a nice day, and now someone is actually here repairing my range.”

“No,” Ianto chuckled lightly, “I was just checking up on you to see how the rest of your night went. Did the power go out so McGrump couldn’t play his guitar?”

“Not exactly.” Grasping a strand of hair, Rose twirled it around her finger.

There was a pause. “Don’t tell me you went up to his flat and smashed it.”

“What?” Rose giggled. “No.”

“And I’m not going to have to help you clean up a crime scene?” Ianto added. “Or hide a body?”

“No. Apparently he plays piano too. Brilliantly, I regret to say,” she grumbled with a roll of her eyes.

“Do you think he’s finally learning to give you a break?”

“Well… we may have come to an agreement.” Rose didn’t know if she should tell Ianto about the rest of her evening. He’d always known her as being strong, independant, and one to take a stand. Accepting Mr. McGregor’s help, even during desperate times, would make it appear as though she had given up.

“Agreement?” He sounded baffled. “You never mentioned the two of you coming to an agreement.”

She should tell him. It was just too bizarre to keep to herself. Besides, Ianto was her best friend, he would never think any less of her. “We talked it over last night… after he invited me up to his flat.”

Ianto’s pause was considerably longer this time, causing her heart to skip a beat. “Wait… Did I miss something? Why would he invite you up to his flat and why the hell would you take him up on his offer?”

Rose chewed on her thumbnail.  _ There’s no turning back now. _ “Because after you dropped me off, I realized I had locked my keys in my flat. I know it was stupid of me,” she added quickly, “but I was so furious when I left yesterday morning, I never checked my bag to see if I had them.”

She heard a drawn-out sigh and could picture her friend rubbing his eyes out of frustration. “You could have called me. I would have come back for you.”

“I was going to, but as luck would have it, my phone was dead.”

“I knew I should have walked you to your door,” Ianto muttered. “What happened next? Don’t say you went to him for help.”

“Believe me, that was the last thing on my mind,” Rose assured him. “My plan was to take the bus to my mum’s, but as I turned around to leave, I found Mr. McGregor, standing there,  watching me.”

Ianto gasped. “That sounds… terrifying.”

“It was, but…” Rose trailed off when she noticed the repairman waving for her attention, “… I have to go. The repairman needs to speak to me.”

“What?” Ianto squeaked. “You can’t just stop there.”

“Sorry, but…”

“I’m coming over,” Ianto insisted. “Torchwood will survive one night without me… I think. I’ll even stop at the market along the way, so we can put that range of yours to the test.”

“Sounds great. See you then.” Rose ended the call and returned to the kitchen to see about the repair.

 

* * *

 

After returning home from work, Aiden collapsed on his couch. Shutting his eyes, he rested his head back and reflected upon the previous night. It had only been a few hours since Rose lay in this very spot, sleeping peacefully under his watch.

He’d hoped things might have changed between them. Not a dramatic change, but at least a little pleasantry, a simple hello would suffice, or perhaps a smile. Anything to give him a little wiggle room to start a conversation. Instead, she’d just ran past him at the coffee shop as if he were invisible.

She’d made it clear she wanted nothing to do with him and it was entirely his fault. He was a fool to think one night would reverse the damage he had already done.

Unless it had all been a dream, his subconscious playing tricks on him after one too many glasses of Scotch.

_ The Scotch! _

Aiden’s eyes popped open and he sat up, looking at the table beside him where Rose’s glass still sat, some of the amber liquid remaining within.  _ What a terrible waste of perfectly good Scotch. _ He picked up the glass and walked over to the piano to retrieve his own (which he had properly finished), and carried them to the sink to be washed.

As he rinsed the glasses, music began to playing loudly from downstairs. And not just any music, but pop music. The repetitive beat, along with the sound of some autotuned male, who had seemingly bypassed puberty, made Aiden want to tear out his own eardrums. If this was her music of choice, it was no wonder she detested his guitar playing.

Tamping down his urge to protest, he decided it was best to try and ignore it. Only, the harder he tried, the more it infected his eardrums, worming its way into his thoughts. For God’s sake, he was even tapping his toe to the fucking beat! He couldn’t have that!. 

Deciding to try another approach, Aiden went to his stereo and turned on some music of his own. Not so loud to start a battle, but just enough, drowning hers out so he didn’t have to listen to her drivel.

His attempts were fruitless. Even at a high volume, her music continued to bleed through, mixing with his. 

Not acceptable!

_ Headphones are an option _ , he reminded himself. But as soon as he picked them up, he threw them back down again. “This is preposterous! I’m in my own flat, minding my own business. Why should I succumb, when she’s the one making all the racket?”

Noting the irony of his words, Aiden reached for his headphones a second time and reluctantly plugged them into his stereo.  _ I’ll let her win, just this once. Let her believe the tables have turned. _ Settling into a nearby chair, he reclined back and shut his eyes once more to let the musical stylings of Stevie Ray Vaughan soothe his rampant temper.

Despite having  _ his _ preferred music now calming his nerves, his mind kept returning to Miss Tyler. Rose… Maybe he should try going down there to speak with her. Not about her poor choice in music or how it was killing brain cells, but to make amends. 

_ Would she even speak to me?  _ he mused. He wasn’t entirely certain she would even answer the door. Although he could be very persistent. If he really wanted her attention, he could get it...

_ No. It’s that sort of thinking that got me into this whole mess. I keep pushing and pushing, testing her limits, and it’s led me nowhere. If anything, it’s set me back, making things harder. _

_ But set me back… from what?  What the hell am I trying to achieve?  _

It had been so long since he’d taken an interest in anyone, he wasn’t entirely sure what his feelings were toward Rose. Of course, she was beautiful. He’d be a fool to deny that, but it wasn’t her beauty that sparked his interest. It was something more.

Aiden removed the headphones and dropped them onto the floor. “I am an idiot. Stupid, Doctor Idiot,” he berated himself. For years he’d been building this wall, keeping everyone away. Except Bill. She’d managed to chisel away just enough that he learned to accept her friendship. But Rose Tyler, a woman nearly half his age, made him want to tear down that wall himself. He’d bring a wrecking ball if he had to.

Was that why he’d been acting the way he had? To keep her out, so that wall could stand strong and protect her from the man he once was? Someone who had seen war and death. Walking away with his own life, but his hands forever stained by the blood of those who never would. 

After the war, he would drive himself mad at night, trying to count the number of lives he had taken. Each one of them had had their own story, their own dreams, and their own families waiting for them back home. How many lives had been shattered and hearts broken by his hand?

Days would pass before he could sleep, out of fear of closing his eyes. Eventually, exhaustion would take over, forcing him to surrender, and he would hear their screams as they accompanied him in his dreams. 

The war might be over, but the nightmares had never stopped.

Rose deserved better, he told himself. Not a broken, bitter, old man like him and he… he didn’t deserve her.

He sat there, unmoving, letting the maddening noise from below fuel his anger. Anger toward himself, which he’d tried directing toward Rose, only to have it fall back on him. 

It was infuriating, and with each digitized beat pulsing through the floor, his fury grew. He picked up the headphones, telling himself to stop thinking so much and relax when something new assaulted his senses. 

He froze.

Taking a whiff of air, his nose wrinkled. Dropping the headphones, Aiden leapt to his feet. This was too much. If the sound of her blasted music wasn’t making him want to run, the smell was! 

It was pungent, foul, and… fishy!

“Did she open a fucking cannery?” Aiden stormed toward the balcony and threw the door open, seeking the refuge of fresh air. Terrible mistake. He was nearly blown back inside by the overpowering odor. “Bloody hell!” He slammed the door shut, but it was too late. What had started out as a rather disgusting pong had now escalated to an infernal cloud, forcing its way in, taking up residence in his home by blanketing itself upon every surface and settling in for a long stay.

Cursing under his breath, Aiden exited his flat and stomped downstairs. The music was one thing, but that smell… He was going to have to live with that for weeks.

Stopping in front of her door, he began pounding on it with his fist. He wasn’t sure if he was trying to make his presence known or attempting to break down the door. Either scenario would work for him at the moment.

It wasn’t until he dropped his hand he realized what he was doing. He’d let his temper get the best of him once again, and here he was, ready to unleash it all on her. Rose.

He shouldn’t be here. Not like this. If he let her get under his skin, he was bound to say something stupid. But it was too late, he realized, hearing footsteps approaching the closed door. He had only a few seconds to compose himself and calm his temper before the door flew open.

Only it wasn’t Rose, but a man he’d never seen before, and Aiden felt his restraint snap.

He stared this… pretty boy, up and down. Sizing him up, before barking out, “Who the bloody hell are you?” Before the stranger could answer, Aiden shook his head and waved him off. “Nevermind. I don’t care. Where’s Miss Tyler?”

“What?” the man asked.

“Are you deaf?” Aiden snapped, his Scottish accent thickening. “Rose. Is she here?”

The man had the audacity to smirk at him before turning his head and shouting, “Rose! McGrump would like to speak with you!”

Aiden furrowed his brow in confusion. “Mc-what?”

The door widened further and Rose stepped out, her smile fading upon seeing him. Aiden felt his insides twist, knowing he was the reason for it.

After being asked to keep an eye on the food, the pretty boy looked smugly back at Aiden once more before disappearing inside.

Aiden scowled at him as he walked away before turning his attention to Rose. “What is that horrid smell emanating from your flat?”

“Fish,” Rose replied. “Why? Does the smell bother you, Mr. McGregor?” She enunciated his name as if trying to provoke him.

He ignored it.

“It’s Aiden actually. If we are going to continue being neighbors, we should stop with the formalities.” He covered his nose and groaned. “Ugh, I call someone to come fix your range and this is how you repay me?”

“What?” Rose squeaked, her eyes widening. “You called him?”

“Well you were whining about it last night so I assumed…”

Rose stopped him before he could finish. “I know I accepted your help last night, but only because I was tired and not thinking clearly! Don’t go thinking I need you, of all people, to come to my rescue! I can take care of myself, like I always have!”

Aiden felt his temper teetering on edge. “You complain about me annoying you and now you’re arguing with me for trying to be helpful. What the hell do you want?”

“I want you to leave me alone!” Rage flashed in her eyes and her nostrils flared. “That’s all! Now if you don’t mind, I have to get back to cooking. Goodbye, Mr. McGregor,” she spat and slammed the door, inches from his nose.

Now he was at the receiving end of a verbal barrage, he had to admit it didn’t feel so great, but he should have seen it coming. He had to restrain himself from banging on her door again. He knew, with his temper, things could only get worse.

He took a deep calming breath. He needed to cool off and most of all, he needed to wait for that pretty boy to leave, before he tried to speak with her again. The last thing he needed was someone interfering, trying to be her hero.

Sighing, he turned away, only to find Bill approaching. She noticed him at the same moment he noticed her and the shock on her face was evident.

“Now what do  _ you _ want?” Aiden snapped at her. “Just so you know, now isn’t a good time.”

She nervously pointed toward Rose’s door. “Uh… my friend, Ianto, called and invited me over for dinner.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Oh really? So, you and Miss Tyler are friends now?”

Rolling her eyes, Bill huffed. “I already told you, her name is Rose. And no, it’s Ianto I’m friends with. He’s the one who invited me over because he wanted me to get to know her better.”

“Did he now?” Aiden’s tone turned sarcastic. “He just takes it upon himself to invite people over to her flat. Well, that’s just fantastic! He may as well move in!” He stormed past Bill and up the stairs. “When you get inside, tell her and that bloody boyfriend of hers their music is too loud. It’s bad enough I have to breathe in her wretched cooking!”

He entered his flat and threw the door closed so forcefully the walls shook.

_ Rose never mentioned anything about a boyfriend last night _ . Although, she hadn’t told him much about herself to begin with.

_ And how does Bill know him? Where does she fit into all of this? _

The music from the flat below grew louder, instead of lower, and Aiden knew this was backlash for all those nights keeping her awake with his guitar playing. Out of frustration, he kicked his rubbish bin. It’s contents scattered across the floor, enraging him more.

Grabbing his coat, he exited his flat and decided to spend the rest of the evening at the local.

 


	7. Chapter 7

Dinner was off to a rocky start to say the least. It had only been ten minutes since Bill had arrived and Rose was still seething over her most recent exchange with the Doctor. Nobody spoke around the dinner table, and Bill was beginning to miss the obnoxious music that had been playing before the Doctor had fled.

But, there was no music to fill the awkward silence, and Bill refused to let whatever the Doctor had done spoil the evening. It would have to be up to her to break the ice and get the conversation rolling. “Wow! This has to be the best fish I have ever tasted.”

“Thank you,” Rose gave her a tight smile Bill knew wasn’t genuine. “Although, it was Ianto’s idea to cook it. Mostly because he knew the smell would drive that wanker upstairs mad.”

“Well, between that and your music, I think you’re even now.”

Rolling her eyes, Rose mocked a laugh. “Believe me, I’m not even close to being even with him. Did he tell you about the bill he left taped to my door yesterday for those blasted flowers?”

Bill choked on her water. “He what?”

“I was so angry, I ended up locking my keys in my flat.” Rose attacked her food with murderous stabs of her fork. “I didn’t even realize until I got home late last night and got caught out in the storm.”

Bill thought back to the previous day and how eager the Doctor had seemed to get her out of the shop. If he had left Rose a bill, he had most likely been expecting her to show up to contest it, and he wouldn’t have wanted Bill around to interfere. She took another drink of her water to hide the amusement playing on her lips.

“I don’t know.” Ianto’s eyes lit up with mirth. “I think he more than made up for that one.”

Rose shot him a piercing glare before dropping her eyes to her plate and continuing to eat.

Bill gaped at the two of them, waiting for an explanation. If they thought a comment like that would go unnoticed, they had another thing coming. “Made up for it how?”

“Nothing really,” Rose muttered between bites. “He just… erm... let me wait in his flat until the locksmith came.”

“Not only that,” Ianto teased, as Rose steadfastly ignored him, “he also played the piano for her while she napped on his couch.”

“Better than that blasted guitar he plays all night, keeping me awake. One night he actually left his door open. I swear he was waiting for me to show up.”

Ianto grinned. “Which she did.”

Rose nodded. “I marched right inside and unplugged the damn thing.”

“Oh,” Bill winced. She remembered the stern warning she had been given when she lived with the Doctor. “He doesn’t let anyone touch his guitar. What did he say?” She could only imagine his reaction, judging by experience.

“Nothing really,” Rose shrugged. “Just told me to think of it as a concert or something. Of course, he just plugged it back in and waited until I had crawled into bed to start up again. He says he’s not doing it to annoy me, but he can’t fool me.”

“Who knows,” Ianto winked, “maybe he fancies you.”

Bill laughed nervously, wondering if it was as obvious to Ianto as it was to her.

“I don’t think that man can feel anything but malice toward another person,” Rose scoffed.

“You seem to get along with him, Bill.” Ianto turned her way. “Tell us, has there been anyone in his life romantically? Does he have a type?”

_ Besides Rose? _   “Uh...” Bill stammered. She hoped the beads of sweat on her forehead were just her imagination. “The Doctor likes to keep his private life to himself. He never even mentions his past. He’s quite mysterious actually.”

Ianto rubbed his chin. “A mystery man, eh?”

“Can we please change the subject?” Rose whined. “I’d like to enjoy my dinner without being reminded of himself up there.”

“Yes!” Bill agreed, a bit too enthusiastically. If they didn’t change the subject soon, she might say too much. “Ianto, you invited me over so Rose and I could get to know each other, not to talk about my boss.”

“Thank you,” Rose sighed, and offered Bill a gracious smile, one that met her eyes.

The conversation flowed easily from there on out, and as the evening wore on, they moved from the table to the patio. Although Rose was the one who had asked for the change of subject earlier, she still brought up the Doctor more than once and she was at it again as she recounted the memory of her first encounter with him.

Bill could understand how someone like Rose had managed to catch the Doctor’s eye, and it wasn’t because she was gorgeous. The Doctor had never been one to let himself get distracted by a pretty face; he was deeper than that.

From what she had learned so far, Rose was a fighter. She took on every challenge life threw at her and never backed down, even when the outcome looked bleak. It was hard to imagine all she had gone through to make it this far, from losing her dad, growing up on the estate, leaving school for an abusive relationship, to finding her way home again.

Each setback only drove her forward, motivating her to get her A-levels, finish culinary school, and get off the estate for good, despite so many people telling her she couldn’t do it. Now that she’d made it this far, she wasn’t about to let the Doctor drive her away. He seemed like a mere pest compared to the hurdles she’d already conquered, and after hearing Rose’s story, Bill almost wanted to smack him for the way he’d been treating her.

Of course, she didn’t have to. Rose was more than capable, and after seeing the Doctor’s frustration when she first arrived this evening, Bill could tell she was just getting warmed up. She was almost predatory: studying her prey, learning his behavior before going in for the kill.

But did the Doctor see this? He must have realized Rose was just as cunning as he was. Before her, no one had dared challenge him. But she had. Time and time again. It was that spark which ignited something within him. The fact that she was also easy on the eyes was just the icing on the cake.

To be honest, Bill worried about how serious their rivalry was becoming. They were like two bombs, ready to blow, and if someone didn’t defuse the situation soon, the result could be catastrophic.

To be honest, she felt a bit guilty about possibly adding fuel to the fire. During their conversations about the Doctor, she had let slip a couple of his pet peeves. In hindsight, she probably should have been more discreet: Rose’s eyes had gleamed with mischief as she had taken in the information. Bill would feel horrible if either of them got hurt because of something she had mentioned. She was going to have to keep a close eye on them, no matter how much the Doctor might resent her interference. But could she do it alone, or should she try to recruit Ianto to help her?

Bill pretended to listen as Ianto and Rose began reminiscing about school, but her mind was miles away. As she contemplated the situation, she glanced up at the Doctor’s window and spotted him watching them from above. He had the lights off, but his silhouette was unmistakable.

Smirking, Bill gave him a subtle signal to let him know she could see him, and he backed away. He could deny it all he wanted, but Bill knew, to him, Rose was more than just his obnoxious downstairs neighbor.

 

* * *

 

 

Aiden had to force himself out of bed the following morning. He had only ended up spending an hour at the local, having just one drink and forcing down a plate of chips (no fish, ta!). Unfortunately for him, there had been a match on and the crowd surrounding him had screamed and cheered at the telly.  _ As if the bloody players could hear them! _

He had been in no mood to go home. In fact he’d considered staying for one more drink and toughing it out for a bit, but a desperate woman, reeking of cigarettes and cheap perfume, had zeroed-in on him, and he’d hurried to pay his tab and escape.

Once home, he’d left the lights off and took advantage of the darkness to get a proper look at the pretty boy he’d met earlier and in turn, Rose, who was smiling beautifully. He could have watched that smile all night, but as his eyes traveled to Bill, he realized he’d been caught and was forced to back away and spend the rest of his evening listening to them laugh and chatter. 

Later that night, Aiden had found himself lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. He had kept his promise and refrained from playing his guitar or making any noise, which had left him alone with his thoughts. And those thoughts had been fixed on one thing: Rose.

He’d tossed and turned for ages before finally managing to fall asleep, only to have his nightmares jolt him awake an hour later. Once he’d calmed down, his troublesome thoughts about Rose had resumed until he drifted off again, beginning the cycle all over.

Now, completely exhausted, he wanted nothing more than to go back to bed, but the threat of another nightmare easily changed his mind.

Making very little effort, Aiden got dressed and brushed his teeth. He didn’t even bother to shave before trudging out the door.

Stopping at the coffee shop, as he did every morning before work, he was relieved to see Rose was not there. Glancing around the shop, looking for any sign of her, Aiden approached the counter and was surprised to find Wilf wasn’t there, but his granddaughter Donna.

“It looks like you’ve been hit by a bus,” Donna commented once he was before her.

Aiden scowled. “Is that how you greet all your customers?”

“Oh, a bit rich,  _ you _ giving me customer service advice” Donna snarked as she put in his order. “Seriously, are you sick?”

Handing over the money Aiden grumbled, “No, I just didn’t get much sleep.”

Donna prepared his coffee and smirked. “All those nights of torturing Rose are finally catching up to you.”

Aiden rolled his eyes. “It’s because I was trying _not_ to make noise that I couldn’t sleep.”

Donna placed his drink on the counter and furrowed her brow. “What the hell do you mean by that?”

Aiden picked up his coffee, turned, and walked away without giving her an answer. Honestly, what answer could he give?

“Oi! Don’t just walk away!” Donna yelled as he stepped out the door.

As he headed to his shop, Aiden took a sip of his coffee and came to a halt. He’d been in such a hurry to avoid Donna’s questioning, he’d forgotten to grab sugar. He considered going back, but he knew Donna wouldn’t let him leave a second time without getting some answers. He was in no mood to deal with her badgering.

While stepping into Gallifrey Flowers, he was greeted, not by one of Bill’s cheerful hellos, but by a confused stare.

“Is everything alright, Doctor?” Bill asked as she took in his ragged appearance.

“I’m fine,” he groused back.

“It doesn’t look like you’re fine,” Bill commented. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you just stumbled in after a long night of partying.”

Aiden brushed past her. “If I tell you that was it, would you leave me alone?” He stepped into the back room, hoping that would satisfy her for now. At least it seemed to get his message across , because Bill didn’t follow him.

He looked over his work orders, determining what had to be done by today and what could wait until tomorrow. From the looks of it, if nothing last-minute came in, he could be home by two. Regardless, it was going to be a very long day.

Grimacing after another taste of his bitter coffee, he called out to Bill, “Do we have any sugar?”

She entered the room. “I think so.”

After rummaging through a cabinet, she passed him the sugar. He kept his eyes low and muttered a gruff, “Thanks.” He didn’t think he could cope with being interrogated about his night or Rose. Turning his back to Bill, he popped the lid off his coffee and listened for her retreating footsteps.

They never came.

“Doctor,” she peeped from behind him, “have you ever been married?”

That was not a question he had been expecting. “No.” He shook his head solemnly and tested the coffee before securing the lid.

“Oh.” She moved out of his way when he stepped around her to grab his apron. “Well, have you ever been in a relationship?”

Aiden pulled the apron over his head and sighed loudly as he began to tie it. “A couple, but those were a very long time ago.”

Moving out of his way again, Bill found his shears and handed them to him. “It’s just, all this time I’ve known you, you’ve never mentioned it.”

“There’s nothing worth mentioning.” He kept his eyes firmly on his work, wondering what she was getting at. From the corner of his eye, he could see her toying with a piece of ribbon, and her fidgeting was becoming very distracting. It was evident she had something to say but was afraid to.

His eyes snapped up, meeting hers, and he barked out, “What? I know you won’t leave until you say whatever it is that you’re thinking! So, get on with it!”

Bill dropped the ribbon she had been playing with and rested her hip alongside his workbench. “You know that whole thing last night with the fish and the music was just to get a rise out of you, yeah? To get back at you for everything you’ve done to Rose?”

“Really?” Aiden replied sarcastically. “I hadn’t guessed.”

“And you  _ do _ know Ianto isn’t her boyfriend?” Bill added. “They’re just friends. He’s her boss actually and…”

“Fine!” Aiden snapped and clipped away at the stem furiously. “He’s not her boyfriend and she finally decided to retaliate. Anything else?”

“Yeah!” Bill snapped back. “How about you stop acting like an arse and try being nice to her?”

Aiden slammed his shears down and turned to her with a scowl. He was tired of Bill’s constant probing about what went on between him and Rose. “Why do you care?”

“Because she’s been through enough,” Bill argued. “You may be having fun, but she’s not.”

“I tried being nice, and all that resulted in was her ignoring me.” He lowered his head, picked up his shears, and resumed working. “At least this way, she talks to me,” he said under his breath.  _ Did I just say that out loud?  _ Judging by the sudden grin on Bill’s face, he had.

“Well, if I learned anything about Rose last night, it’s that she’s not going down without a fight and now that she knows how to push your buttons she’s not going to stop. If you keep it up, the only one who’s going to lose, in the end, is you.”

“I won’t lose anything,” he growled.

“You will if you drive her away,” Bill retorted as she stomped toward the front room. “You’re already a miserable bastard. I don’t want to know how you’d be if that happened.”

_ Thank the fuck Bill was out of his hair for the time being _ . Now, Aiden was able to focus on his task so he could get done and go home. As he worked, he began to mull over Bill’s words, but what he took away from them was not, he was quite certain, what Bill had intended. If Rose thought terrible music and foul smells were her way of getting even, she wasn’t trying very hard.

* * *

 

Later that afternoon, Aiden reached the door of his flat, shoulders sagging with the relief of being home and the fond thoughts of being able to crawl into his bed. But after stepping over threshold and being assaulted by the lingering odor of fish, he was second guessing his decision.

“Ugh!” He pinched his nose, and was walking through his flat opening windows, when he heard the music. That same blasted music Rose had been playing the night before. Stepping out onto the balcony, he peered down to see her seated on the patio below, flipping through a magazine.

“Don’t you have a job to be at?” He hollered down to her.

“Not for a couple of hours,” she called back without stopping to look up his way.

_Fighter my arse._ _She isn’t even trying._

He began to stare harder, beetling his eyebrows at her, as if that would get her attention, but all she did was flip the page and continue reading. How could she just sit there, knowing he was there watching her?

“I get it,” Aiden called down to her. “I keep you up with my music, so you’re trying to annoy me with yours.”

_ Nothing. _

“Well it’s not going to work,” he continued. “You can play your bloody music and I’ll just play mine louder.”

Rose stood up and walked back inside without acknowledging him.  _ Was that it? One threat and she retreats? Or was she coming to bring the fight upstairs? _

Aiden was about to go back inside, disappointed by her lack of effort, when Rose returned and sat back down without a glance in his direction. If she hadn’t spoken to him earlier, he would have thought he was invisible.

Aiden’s hands tightened on the banister: he would not be ignored. “You know, you…” He lost his train of thought when he saw what was in her hand. “Is that a pear?”

He watched in disgust as she brought it to her lips and took a bite of the vile fruit. How could she smile with the taste of  _ that _ in her mouth?

“For a chef, you have a terrible palate!”

She took a second bite and wiped the juice from her chin in a disgusting manner.

“Argh!” He went back inside, unable to watch any longer. His stomach twisted at the thought of what the pear must taste like, all pulpy and wet. Sitting down on the couch, he covered his face with his hands, and groaned loudly into them.

A moment passed and he heard a small, smug giggle from outside.

Suddenly, he realized what she was doing. Aiden lowered his hands and began to laugh. She had gotten to him after all. Not only that, she was enjoying it just as he had all those times when she had been at his mercy.

Well, he couldn’t let her have the last laugh. Could he?

Getting to his feet, Aiden strolled back onto the balcony and looked down at Rose, still seated below, unaware he had returned. Taking the pitcher he used to water his plants, he reached out and began to pour. Slowly at first, increasing the flow until he was shaking it empty.

Her body stiffened as the chilly water washed over her. After the last drop hit, she remained frozen, her mouth hanging open in shock.

Aiden set the pitcher down and began to chuckle. Leaning over the bannister, he beamed down at her, knowing she wouldn’t ignore him now.

Rose jumped to her feet, pushed the wet hair out of her face, and glared at him. “You bastard!” She stormed into her flat and leaned back out the open doorway, looking up at him with narrowed eyes. “This isn’t over,” she warned, and slammed the door shut.

Laughing, Aiden headed to his bedroom and hopped into bed. The next move was hers and he was eager to see what she had planned.  He was still smiling when he finally fell asleep, and for once, he didn’t have any nightmares.

 


	8. Chapter 8

“So, I take it you two are _not_ even,” Ianto chuckled. He leaned alongside a counter as he watched Rose stir a pot of alfredo sauce. It was a menial task, often handled by prep cooks, but that never stopped Rose from wanting to pitch in and get the orders out quickly.

“Not by a long shot,” Rose growled. “And will you stop laughing?” She grasped a towel and smacked Ianto across the shoulder with it. “This isn’t funny.”  

“Sorry,” Ianto cleared his throat and wiped the smile from his face. Tossing the towel over his shoulder, he stepped in and took over stirring duty so Rose could tend to other tasks around the kitchen. “Why not just ignore him? If you think he’s doing these things just to get a rise out of you, he’ll probably get bored and stop.”

“We both know that’s not gonna happen.” Drawing in her bottom lip, Rose began to pace. “I just need to think of something that will…” As she came to a halt, her brows rose and her smile grew.

Ianto knew that expression. “Looks like someone just had an idea.”

Rose nodded enthusiastically. “Remember when we were in school? That one prank...?”

She didn’t have to say any more. Ianto knew exactly what prank she was referring to and groaned. “Rose, that’s so childish.”

“That’s why it’s perfect.” Rose bounced on her toes excitedly. “He won’t see it coming.”

 

* * *

  

Aiden waited and waited. After the first day, he’d assumed she’d needed time to plot, and by the time the second day had come and gone, he’d wondered if she was out of ideas. But four days? What was taking her so long?

Unless... his last stunt had been the final straw and she had given up, thinking she’d never win. His heart sank at the thought.

No, he reassured himself, she wouldn’t give up so easily. She had meant it when she’d stormed into her flat that afternoon, dripping wet from having water poured on her, and declared, “This isn’t over.” Her eyes had blazed with the fury of a thousand suns, letting him know her words weren’t a mere warning, but a threat.

It was just that Aiden had been expecting a quicker retaliation. Rose was clever. Surely she must have come up with some sort of scheme by this time. The anticipation was driving him to distraction, making him angry and irritable. He wasn’t accustomed to being kept waiting, and yet, here he was, sitting and gathering dust, while she took her sweet time plotting her next attack. She was toying with him, and that made him furious. Aiden McGregor would not be toyed with.

Fuming with rage, he stormed into work that morning, announcing his arrival by slamming the door so hard it caused the open sign and bell chime to fly off. He paid them no mind as they hit the floor behind him as he stomped toward the counter. Seeing the question playing on Bill’s lips, Aiden immediately snapped, “Drop it now or go home!”

His message was loud and clear. In fact, Bill went out of her way to be extra sure nothing or no one disturbed him, knowing his foul mood would only worsen.

Unfortunately, she was unable to do anything about his current order of three bloody _rose_ bouquets. Just the name of the flower agitated him.

By the third bouquet, Aiden couldn’t stand the sight of them; he just wanted to be shot of the job. He snipped away furiously, pausing only when he heard the bell ring, announcing someone had entered the shop. If it was someone looking for a last-minute favor, they were out of luck. With the next clip, he felt a snap as the shears broke in his hand.

“Fucking, blasted shears!” He cried out as he launched them across the room. Bracing his hands on the workbench, Aiden glared at the flowers as if they were responsible for the mishap. A moment later, he heard retreating footsteps, quickly making their way toward the door as the visitor left.

“Doctor?”

Looking up, he saw Bill peeking through the door.

“I know, I know,” he grumbled, “quit yelling so I don’t drive customers away.”

“Uh, no… Well, that too, but,” she stepped inside carrying a box, “there’s a delivery for you.” She placed the box on the workbench. “Did you order something?”

“No. Probably just another sample for a product nobody will buy.” He received parcels like this one from time to time.

He reached for a knife and sighed as he pulled the box closer. “May as well open it now, before the rubbish goes out tonight.”

After cutting through the tape, Aiden ripped the box open and heard a loud bang. A flash of white forced him to shut his eyes. _What in the hell?_

Slowly, he peeked an eye open, then the other, and looked down to find himself covered from head to toe in flour. He looked over at Bill: her mouth was agape and her eyes wide, most likely worried this might send him over the edge.

Peering inside the box, Aiden found the remnants of a balloon and a note. He pulled out the piece of paper, shook it off before unfolding it, and read it out loud: “Say it with flour.” Scrunching his nose, Aiden threw his head back and groaned. “Argh! I don’t know which is worse, this” he gestured to his flour-covered clothes, “or the terrible pun.”

Bill couldn't hold it in any longer. Her laughter filled the room. He looked over and noticed her snapping photos with her mobile.

He narrowed his eyes. “Did you know about this?”

“No,” she giggled, shaking her head. “I wish I would have so I could’ve filmed it instead.”

“I’m glad you find this amusing,” he griped. “Maybe you’d like to start this bouquet again.” He pointed toward his work, now covered in white powder. Sure, he could try cleaning the flowers, but that was not the quality his customers paid for.

Bill tucked her mobile away and backed up toward the door. “I think I’ll just get a broom.”

Aiden began dusting himself off and smiled. Oh, she was cunning, was Miss Tyler, making him wait so he wouldn’t know when to expect her attack. The question was, what could he do to top this stunt?

Bill returned with a broom and Aiden took it from her. “Go on, I’ll clean this up.”

“Are you sure?” Bill studied him, trying to decipher his mood. “I don’t mind.”

“Yeah,” he smiled. “Seeing that I’m somewhat responsible for this.” He waved her away. “Go on.”

“Ok, fine. Have it your way.” She passed him the broom and with a shake her head as she left the room.

Aiden felt like a weight had been lifted as he happily swept up the floury mess and wiped off his workbench. Picking up the note, Aiden read it once more, chuckling at the absurd joke, before stuffing it into his pocket.

 

* * *

  

Torchwood had had a profitable night and Rose was exhausted but pleased with how well the dinner service had gone. Now she was ready to go home to reward herself with a hot bath before climbing into her soft, warm bed. With Aiden keeping to his promise and not making any noise late at night, she was guaranteed to have a relaxing evening.

“Let me give you a ride,” Ianto said as he followed her to the door, smirking. “Just in case you need some protection.” He handed her his mobile and showed Rose the photo Bill had sent him.

Rose began to laugh. “Oh, that’s brilliant!” She hadn’t even thought to ask for a photo, but she was so glad Bill had had the presence of mind to fire off a shot or two and send them along. “What did she say? Was he angry?”

“She didn’t say anything, just sent me this.” He took the phone as she handed it back.

“Well, I think I can manage to make it home without your protection,” she giggled.

They stepped out and Ianto locked the door behind him. “I know you can, but after tonight I’m sure you’d like to make it home and get to bed... without any hassle.”

“Fine,” Rose followed Ianto to his car, “but only because I’m dying to get off my feet.”

 

After arriving home and reluctantly allowing Ianto to walk her to the door, Rose wasted no time washing up and climbing into bed.

It was bliss, feeling her head hit the pillow while she buried herself under the covers. Grabbing her mobile, Rose took one last look at the photo Ianto had forwarded to her and smiled. She was going to sleep well tonight knowing she won this round.

 

* * *

  

A blaring noise startled Rose from a deep slumber. Groggy and flustered, she lurched upright. Her limbs tangled in the sheets, and she found herself crashing to the floor. Lying on her back, stunned, she stared at the ceiling as the cacophony continued, sounding for all the world as if some poor, enormous animal was being tortured. She peered up at her bedside clock: 12:01. She cursed under her breath, and floundered to her feet, pulling on her dressing gown. Seething, she strode out the front door of her flat.

The clamor  continued, brassy and discordant  as she marched up the stairs and pounded on Aiden’s door. This was something she hadn’t needed to do in at least a week; something she had hoped to never have to do again. _Ever!_

The second his door opened, Rose launched into a verbal tirade. “Mr. McGre-”.

“Ah-ah,” he cut her off, holding up a finger. “It’s Aiden, remember?”

Rose shot him a withering look; she was not in the mood for this. “What are...”

He stopped her again and made a gesture toward his ear, waiting for her to say it.

“Fine,” she gritted through her teeth. “ _Aiden_.”

He smiled triumphantly. “It means fiery one.”

Rose rolled her eyes, before looking down to see the large, shiny object he was holding in his hand. “What the hell is that?”

“Oh,” he looked down as if he’d forgotten he was holding it, “it’s a trombone. I was out for a walk this afternoon when I spotted it in a shop window. I’d never tried to play a trombone before, so I got it on loan.” He raised it up. “It’s a lot harder than I thought, but I think I’m getting the hang of it.” He brought it toward his lips. “Listen…”

“NO!” She shouted just in time, and he lowered the instrument. Rose pinched the bridge of her nose. “Mr…,” she cleared her throat before correcting herself, “Aiden, why are you torturing that trombone at twelve in the morning?”

“Is it twelve already?” He mocked surprise and looked at his watch. “I must have lost track of the time, having worked late and all.” He leaned forward and locked eyes with her. “Your little stunt earlier today ruined two hours work. I had to start all over again.”

If he was looking for sympathy, he wasn’t getting it from her. “I thought you agreed not to do this,” she gestured grumpily at the offending instrument, “after eleven?”

“ _Actually_ …” he emphasized the word, “I believe I promised to not play the _guitar_ after eleven. As you can see,” he held it up to her eye level, “this is _not_ a guitar.” He dropped his arm and leaned against the doorframe with a sly grin.

_Of course, he’d find a loophole._

Hands on her hips, Rose’s eyes narrowed. “So, instead of the guitar, you’re going to start playing that thing every night? Or is this just to get back at me for that package you received today?”

“I told you, it’s a loan so it goes back tomorrow and if you think this is payback,” his eyes flashed with mischief, “you greatly underestimate me.” With an exaggerated yawn, he checked his watch once again. “Look how late it is! I should be in bed. Next time you want to chat, pick a decent hour.”

“Me?” Rose stammered and backed away as the door began closing. “I was already…”

Speaking over her, Aiden continued, “And stop going around, knocking on people’s doors after midnight. It’s rude.”

The door snapped shut and Rose heard the lock turn. A moment later the lights in his window went out and Rose was left in the dark. She couldn’t believe things had gone full circle, leaving her standing outside his door. Again!

Rose fumed. _How dare he accuse me of being the rude one!_

With a huff, Rose returned to her flat and headed straight for bed. She wondered if earplugs would do anything to muffle the unbearable sounds he was making with that trombone and waited, knowing he was bound to resume.

For ten minutes, she sat in silence, wondering what his game was this time. Was he really done for the night?

His words replayed in her mind. _You underestimate me..._

If that wasn’t his retribution, she dreaded discovering what else he had planned? Rose rolled over and tried to relax. She was tough, and ready for whatever he threw at her next. Wasn’t she?

 

* * *

  

Bill decided to make a visit to Torchwood. The Doctor had been a closed book, refusing to tell her anything about what had prompted the flour bomb, and she was hoping Ianto would be able to fill her in with some juicy details. With an hour to go until closing, she took the time to enjoy a fabulous meal while waiting to speak to her friend.

After things had died down and the last group had left, Ianto took a break and joined Bill at her table. Soon, they were both laughing at their friends’ absurd behavior toward one another.

“Well, I’m glad I was there to witness the flour incident,” Bill said. “I just wish I could have been there to see him react to her eating that pear. I’ve never known a person who detested a fruit as much as he does.”

Ianto shrugged. “We all have our quirks and when you mentioned that one at dinner the other night, we both knew Rose’d find some way to use it against him.” He chuckled. “It was between that and the hugging, and I doubt she’d ever go that far.”

Bill laughed. “As if he’d stop her.” She watched Ianto’s eyebrows shoot up and realized her mouth had betrayed her. And now she had betrayed the Doctor’s trust. Maybe she could fix this. “I… er… I mean…”

“Uh-huh,” Ianto shook a finger at her and looked over his shoulder to be sure Rose was still in the kitchen and out of earshot. “I know I was joking the other night when I suggested he may fancy Rose, but I noticed you reacted suspiciously. So, tell me, what do you know that I don’t?”

Bill’s shoulders sagged. “Nothing really. Whenever I ask him he denies it. Maybe I’m wrong, but he’s been different when it comes to her.”

“What’s different for _him_?” Ianto asked. “From what Rose told me, he sounds like a complete git.”

“He is… well, can be. When Rose came in that first day and began shouting at him, I expected he’d fire back, but instead he maintained his composure. He even laughed it off after she left. I think he’s just having fun with her.”

Ianto crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. “He didn’t look like he was having fun when I met him.”

Bill nudged him with her elbow. “Because he thought you were Rose’s boyfriend. I tried telling him you weren’t but he just waved me off like he didn’t care.”

“You should have let him believe it. Maybe then he’d leave her alone.”

Bill gave him a sidelong glance as she confessed. “Is it wrong if I said I didn’t want him to? Not that I approve of the way he’s been acting, but ever since Rose came into his life, I’ve seen a change in him. I just want to see him happy for once. He deserves it.”

“And Rose doesn’t?” Ianto asked. “She’s been back there all evening, formulating a plan for when he strikes next.”

“I know,” Bill sighed, “and that’s what worries me. They’re both so strong-willed and bone-headed that this could go either one of two ways.”

“Then let’s make certain this goes in the right direction, before it goes south,” Ianto suggested with a lopsided grin.

Bill gawked at him. “You would help with that?”

Ianto leaned toward her, lacing his fingers as he lowered his voice. “I’ll admit, despite all the yelling and sleepless nights, he’s added a bit of excitement to her life. You should have seen how enthusiastic she got while she was plotting that last attack. Before McGrump came along, her life was just work, sleep, and food. Who knows, this could be exactly what the two of them need.”

Ianto and Bill were sharing a sly grin when Bill’s eyes widened and she loudly announced, “Hey, Rose!”

“Oh! Hi, Bill!” Rose’s lips parted and she furrowed her brow. “What are you two up to?”

“Just talking,” Ianto answered a little too quickly. “Bill, uh…”

“I just came for dinner,” Bill finished for him before he botched it up. “I was just saying  it’d be rude to leave before saying hi. But here you are...” She got up, giving Rose a quick hug. “Hi,” and began backing away. “Sorry I can’t stay but I have to be up early.”

“Okaaaay...” Rose said with a small chuckle. “Thanks for stopping by.”

With a quick wave, Bill slipped out the door.

“Anyway,” Ianto said loudly hoping to distract Rose from over-analyzing the situation, “how about a ride home, yeah?”

 


	9. Chapter 9

The week following Rose’s encounter with Aiden had felt like it would go on forever, and yet it had remained disconcertingly uneventful. She had been looking over her shoulder for days, waiting for the moment he would strike. But by week’s end, with not so much as a hint of a prank or even a barbed insult, she was frazzled and jumpy and thoroughly exasperated.

“What antics did McGrump come up with this time?” Ianto asked her, after she smacked a pan down with a deafening clang.

“Nothing! Not one bloody thing!” She sprinkled it with oil before slamming the bottle down as well. “First, he comes off all intimidating, making me anxious. Next thing I know, he’s the perfect neighbor. He’s quiet, courteous, and just yesterday he prepaid for my coffee.” Grabbing a piece of salmon, she dropped it into the pan. “I’d stop going to that shop, but Wilf is so sweet and makes the best caramel latte. I could never give that up.”

“Maybe he’s done,” Ianto smiled. “That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

Rose laughed sardonically. “He’s not done.”

“Or maybe… you don’t want him to be,” Ianto hinted.

Rose’s eyebrows drew together. “What do you mean by that?”

“Well, this battle you two have been having might have started out annoying, but it’s sort of become routine for you. Now he’s stopped, and you don’t know what to do with yourself.”

“He hasn’t stopped,” Rose sighed. “He’s just trying to frustrate me by making me wait.”

“By the way you’re taking it out on my kitchen, it seems like it’s working.” 

Feeling her cheeks flush, Rose lowered her gaze. “You’re right. Sorry.”

Hearing his name being called, Ianto patted her shoulder and turned to walk away, but he left her with a final thought. “Maybe he’s finally learned you don’t give up without a fight and he got bored.”

Rose considered this as she watched the fish cooking. It was obvious  _ she _ wouldn’t give up, but would  _ he? _ No, he was up to something and she was going to find out what.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Bill silently stood in the doorway leading to the back room of the shop, watching the Doctor work. He knew she was there, but as usual, he didn’t acknowledge her because he knew she was going to ask him something… something he would prefer not to discuss. She only hoped he’d be willing to talk today, because after the phone call she’d had with Ianto the night before, Bill was curious. 

“Ianto tells me you finally stopped pestering Rose.”

He cast his eyes up, looking at her for a moment, then back to his work. “You told me to stop being an arse.”

Bill quirked an eyebrow. “That’s not like you.”

He looked up again and grinned. “I know.”

Bill studied his face. The twinkle in his eye spoke louder than words. “He said she hates it.”

His smile broadened, and his eyebrows rose. “I know.”

_ He’s definitely up to something _ . “So, you’re not doing it to be nice?”

“Why do I need a reason to do or not do something?” He shrugged. “Maybe I decided to give Miss Tyler a break.”

Bill crossed her arms and gave him a hard stare. “You and I both know that’s not it. So, what game are you playing this time?”

“Why do you want to know? So, you can run back to your friend and tell him what I’m up to?”

Bill rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to give anything away. I’m trying to help you, remember?”

“I don’t need your help,” the Doctor replied. “Especially when I’m not doing anything. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from Miss Tyler recently, it’s the anticipation that kills you.”

 

* * *

****

Rose was still awaiting a comeback, but after three more days had passed, she was forced to admit she was feeling  a pang of genuine disappointment. Perhaps Ianto was right about Aiden getting bored.

But then, why was she feeling so frustrated? Was she actually beginning to enjoy this rivalry?

Saturday being Torchwood’s busiest night, Rose had plenty to keep her occupied, but the evening still seemed to be dragging along. She looked at the clock, seeing only five minutes had passed since the last time she’d checked. Puffing out her cheeks, she blew out a breath and prayed something, anything, would happen to make her night go by faster.

She didn’t have to wait long.

Ianto entered the kitchen, which wasn’t unusual, but the way he grinned and strutted toward her was. It made Rose curious. Leaning across the countertop, he slapped an order ticket down in front of her. “We have a special guest who requested that you, and  _ only _ you, would prepare this.”

“Why me?” She picked up the ticket and read it. “Unless my mum decided to…” Seeing the amusement in his eyes, Rose gasped. “Oh god, no!”

“Rose, wait,” Ianto pleaded as she stormed past him toward the dining area. Obviously, he didn’t want her to make a scene and that was exactly what she was trying to avoid. She was going to nip this prank in the bud.

She entered the dining room and peered around at the diners but couldn’t see Aiden. He had to be there. Scanning the room once more, her eyes finally locked with his, but she had to blink several times to be sure it was him.

It was no wonder she hadn’t spotted him at first. That wild tuft of hair was gone, as he sported a much shorter, well groomed, hairstyle. He was also wearing a dark grey suit with a black button up instead of his usual jeans and t-shirt.

Maintaining her composure, Rose approached the table. “What are you doing here?” she hissed at him.

“Isn’t is obvious?” Curiously, he looked around at the diners surrounding him. “I came here for dinner.”

“This isn’t the time or place to play games,” she warned in a low voice.

“I should say not,” he gasped. “I mean, look at this place. You’ve got cloth napkins, a candle at every table, a menu that sadly doesn’t have any pictures, and…” he raised the glass in his hand, “fine wine.” He took a sip and smacked his lips. “I’m normally not a wine drinker, but your waitress, Clara, convinced me otherwise.” He looked across the room toward the waitress in question and shot her a wink.

Rose gave Clara a sidelong glance and felt a burning in her stomach she assured herself was absolutely  _ NOT _ jealousy. Turning back to Aiden, she looked him directly in the eyes and spoke slowly. “Seriously, why are you here?”

“Well,” he smiled innocently, “since Bill keeps going on and on about your cooking, I thought I’d come and judge for myself. Look…” he scooted back and gestured down at himself, “I even bought a new suit and,” he pointed toward his head, “got a haircut.”

Rose studied him for a moment, looking for any sign of mischief but found none. He seemed very relaxed by the way he was reclined back in his seat, his one free arm outstretched, draped over the empty chair beside him. “Fine, but don’t go thinking you’ll be getting any special treatment.”

“Well,” Aiden swirled his wine, “considering the head chef came all the way out here on such a busy night, just to greet me personally, I already feel special.” He took a sip, but never broke his gaze with her.

He was waiting for a reaction, but Rose refused to buckle. She spun around and hurried back to the kitchen, sensing his eyes on her the entire way.

“What did he want?” Ianto asked as he followed from behind.

“Nothing.” Rose went to the sink and scrubbed her hands vigorously. “He says he’s just here to eat.”

“So, what are you going to do?” 

Rose looked back at him, full of determination. “I’m going to make the best damn beef Wellington he’s ever tasted. If he thinks he can intimidate me by coming here and ordering the most difficult dish on the menu, he’s wrong.”

Clara walked into the kitchen. “Hey, Rose! Who’s your friend?”

“Not my friend,” Rose growled back.

“Boyfriend?”

Rose’s hands balled into fists, preparing to lash out for being insulted in such a way, but Ianto spoke first. “Rose has her hands full right now.” He led the waitress toward the dining room. “You can talk later, yeah?”

With Clara was gone, he trotted back to Rose. “Are you alright? I mean, I know you’re upset about McGrump being here and all, but you’ve never gone off on the staff before.”

Rose took a deep breath, feeling ashamed for losing her temper once again. “I’m fine. He just makes me so angry. First, he’s a nightmare, then he ignores me, now he’s here for some unknown reason, and  _ apparently _ ,” she gestured toward the door Clara just exited through, “he’s friendly with her.”

Ianto’s eyes narrowed as he studied her. “You’re not… jealous, are you?”

“Of course not,” Rose stammered.

“I’m just saying,” Ianto singsonged, “this whole time you’ve known him, you’ve felt like he’s been going out of his way to bother you, and then suddenly, he’s stopped. Now you see him giving a bit of attention to someone else, and well…”

“He can give attention to whomever he wants,” Rose snapped.  _ Well, maybe not Clara _ . “But you and I both know he can’t be trusted.” She returned to her work station, muttering, “Maybe you should warn  _ her _ about that too.”

Rose put a great amount of care into preparing Aiden’s meal, and after plating it, she took a moment to admire her work.  It truly was a work of art and it didn’t seem fair that a man like Aiden McGregor would be receiving it.

As much as Rose wanted to deliver it herself, she knew he would make a big deal about receiving preferential treatment and she refused to give him the satisfaction. Reluctantly, she passed it off to Clara who seemed more than eager to take it. Rose sneered as the server practically skipped out the door.

Approaching a small window facing the dining room, Rose peeked out. Ianto joined her as they watched Clara stroll toward the table, place the plate down before Aiden, and begin to chat with him once more.

“Will she shut her trap and just let him eat?” Rose groaned.

“Yeah, definitely not jealous,” Ianto rolled his eyes at her as he stepped away and into the dining room.

Rose watched as Ianto approached the table and said something to Clara. As Clara moved  to top up water glasses at the next table, Ianto shared a brief word with Aiden and left him to eat.

_ Finally _ .

She watched anxiously while he inspected his food, cut into it, and took a bite. He didn’t react immediately, but as he chewed, his eyes widened. He seemed pleased, if not surprised, and the knot in Rose’s stomach unraveled. Now, she could relax and get back to work.

Or so she thought.

Although Rose’s part was done, the meal prepared, she was now preoccupied by thoughts of the man in the next room and whether Clara was back at his table, disturbing him.  _ Not jealous _ , Rose told herself repeatedly as she checked out the window once again. She just wanted to be sure he was enjoying the meal she had worked so hard on. Free from distractions.

An hour passed, and Rose must have peeked at Aiden at least a dozen more times, glad to see Clara was busy with other guests, leaving him to eat. That is, until the check came.

After paying his bill, Aiden and Clara began talking once again. She began to wonder what had him smiling so damn much when she noticed him reach for something on the chair beside him. Picking up a purple flower, he handed it to Clara. He then stood up, bid her farewell, and headed for the door.

Rose’s temper flared as she stomped back to the counter, bracing her hands on it. _Not Jealous!_ _Not Jealous! Not Jealous!_ After all the weeks of being rude and obnoxious to _her_ , he’d casually strolled in and sweet-talked Clara. _Fuck! He even gave her flowers!_. She was so infuriated she wanted to scream.

“Uh, Rose?” Clara peeped from behind her.

Rose’s jaw clenched at the sound of the waitress’ voice. Was she here to brag? Or was she going to ask more questions about her neighbor and what he was to her? Taking a deep breath, Rose turned to face her.

“Your friend… um… whoever he is, asked me to give you this.” Clara handed her the flower. “He said something about you being a worthy opponent.” 

Rose took the flower, staring at it in disbelief. It hadn’t been for Clara, after all. It had been meant for  _ her _ . But what message was Aiden trying to send? And more importantly,  _ what was he up to? _

“Did you two have a bet or something?”

“No,” Rose stammered, “not really.”

Ianto returned to the kitchen and Rose quickly stashed the flower under the counter, hoping he hadn’t noticed.

Luckily his focus was on Clara, who began to back away. Giving Rose a once over, her lip quirked before she turned and left. Rose sighed. She would have to try to avoid the inevitable interrogation later.

Ianto stared at Rose. “Is everything alright? You look flustered?”

“Everything’s fine.” Rose forced a smile but knew he could see right through it. “She was just letting me know it went well.” She hurried to grab the next ticket and tried to look busy, hoping he would leave her be for the moment.

He seemed to understand and walked toward the dining room. Stopping at the door, he looked back at Rose with his eyebrow cocked, and left the kitchen. That made two people she would have to avoid later. Unfortunately for her, one of them was her ride home.

 

Since they were open late on weekends, it was well after one a.m. by the time they finally locked up for the night. She hadn’t told Ianto about the flower, knowing he’d tease her and make unfounded assumptions, but she couldn’t hide it either as she carried it with her to his car.  _ Why the hell do I still have it? It could have gone out with the garbage. _

“Where’d the flower come from?” He finally asked when they got into the car.

“Take a wild guess,” Rose grumbled and pulled out her mobile to search for the type of flower it was.

“How dare he,” Ianto tsked. “First he’s nice and now he’s giving you flowers.”

“I’m sure there’s more meaning to it.” After a moment of searching, Rose found a match. As she read, her face scrunched in confusion.

Ianto peeked over, “What’s it say?”

“It’s called a hyacinth flower,” Rose pronounced the word slowly. “Each color has a different meaning…”

“Oh, right. My mum used to grow those in the garden. She was partial to the white ones. But what does purple mean?”

Rose sighed and dropped the mobile into her lap. “It means ‘I’m sorry’.”

Ianto chuckled “ _ And _ an apology. He’s full of surprises, isn’t he?”

“Whatever,” Rose groaned. “Maybe you’re right and he’s done, so let’s drop it.” Resting her chin on her hand, she stared out the window. She should be happy, but part of her felt as if she were losing something.

“Do you want me to walk you up?” Ianto asked as they neared her flat.

“No,” Rose checked her bag, “I have my keys and  _ apparently _ Aiden won’t be a problem anymore.”

“Oh, it’s Aiden all of a sudden,” Ianto remarked playfully.

Rose wasn’t in the mood for his teasing. “That’s his name, isn’t it?” Gathering her things, she quickly apologized, “Sorry for snapping at you. I’m just tired.” She got out of the car. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Ianto said. “Get some rest. You deserve it.”

As he drove away, Rose walked toward her flat, and spotted Aiden sitting on the steps, staring up at the sky. Just seeing him set her temper off and she began to walk faster. “What the hell is this about?” She held up the flower as she drew near.

“It’s an apology,” he stated. “It means you’ve won.” He gave her a small smile. “Congratulations.”

“No,” Rose argued. “You can’t do that!”

“Do what?”

“Quit after leaving me to worry for over a week!”

“I wouldn’t call it quitting. More like surrendering,” he explained.

“Call it what you want,” Rose said. “It’s not fair!”

Aiden cocked his head to the side. “So, you want me to continue?”

“Yes.” Rose answered immediately. “I mean no. I don’t know.” She rubbed her eyes. “I think I’m just tired and not thinking straight.”

“You should get some sleep then,” Aiden suggested.

“Yeah,” Rose moved toward her door, but stopped. “Why are you out here anyway?”

“Can’t sleep,” he told her, looking back up at the sky.

“Why not?”

He shrugged. “Reasons.”

Rose thought back on all those nights he’d kept her awake with his pacing and guitar playing. Now, as the time neared two am, there he sat and he wasn’t even dressed for bed. “Don’t you ever sleep?”

“When I can.” He stood up and looked down at her. “I suppose I could give it a try.” He walked up the stairs and called back to her as he reached the top. “Goodnight Miss Tyler.”

“It’s Rose.” Her brows drew together and she wondered why she bothered correcting him.  _ I definitely need some sleep. _

* * *

 

_ Aiden picked up his guitar. If he kept the volume low, he wouldn’t disturb Rose. With an experimental pluck of the chords, he was nearly blown back by the deafening sound. Hurrying to turn it down, he strummed once more, but found it louder than before. If that were possible. _

_ Confused, he checked his amp, trying to find the cause when the front door flew open and Rose came rushing in. “I told you to stop with that damn guitar!” _

_ “What the…” he sputtered, furious. This was too far, even for her. “You can’t just barge in here like that!” _

_ “Shut up,” Rose commanded, shoving him backward until he fell back onto the couch. Pushing the guitar aside, she straddled his lap and began snogging him. _

_ As she tugged at his hair and nibbled on his lip, Aiden lost all feeling in his limbs and dropped the guitar . How was this happening? _

_ “Let’s see if I can make better use of those hands,” she purred in his ear. Leaning back, she untied her dressing gown and Aiden assumed, she had nothing on underneath. Slowly, she slid the material down her shoulders, revealing more skin. Aiden couldn’t speak; he was completely transfixed, desperate to see more of her flushed skin, to touch her, to taste her...  _

_ But before she was able to reveal any more, an alarm began to blare. “Times up.” She shrugged and climbed off his lap. _

Aiden was about to protest when his eyes popped open, and Rose was gone. But the noise of the alarm continued. He growled at his bedside clock, slamming it off with his fist. Groaning, he rubbed his eyes.  _ Where had that dream come from? _ Not that he minded having a dream that wasn’t a nightmare, but of all things his mind could conjure, why did it have to be  _ that _ ?

Dream or not, the physical repercussions were very real and as he peeked under the sheet, the tenting in his pants proved to be problematic. “Ugh, are you fourteen!” Aiden berated himself as he fell back onto the pillow. Sex had not been on his mind in ages, but it was apparent his body had not forgotten.

Upon closing his eyes, visions from his dream replayed themselves in vivid detail, and his imagination took over from there. Picturing her on his lap, completely bare, his hand began a journey down his abdomen. He should stop, he told himself as it slipped beneath the waistband. When his fingers wrapped around his length, he knew he was too far gone. Gliding up, past the head and back down to the base, Aiden groaned and repeated the motion while his opposite hand massaged his bollocks.

_ His fingertips trailed down her stomach to the junction of her thighs and found her already wet for him. Her breathy moans encouraged him as he circled her clit, and once she was sopping, his finger plunged inside, followed by a second, causing her to gasp. _

Feeling his stomach muscles tighten, Aiden stroked faster, knowing he was already close.

_ In, and out, he pumped as she rocked against him, uttering his name, begging for more until finally…   _

Aiden bit his lip as a warm wave washed over him. Hips jerking, his cock pulsed within his hand, each euphoric rush spilling his release onto his stomach.

Loosening his grip, Aiden’s hands dropped to his sides, every muscle in his body twitching, and his heart racing. Overall, he felt much better, a release of tension he hadn’t known he’d needed. But he also felt a twinge of guilt for thinking of Rose in such a way. What if she ever found out? Of course, she never would. How could she, unless she had heard him…? No, he reminded himself, he had been quiet.

Tension relieved and guilt assuaged, he could continue with his day and put this behind him. He cleaned himself off and headed for the shower, telling himself that from now on any thoughts he had of Rose would remain strictly pure.


	10. Chapter 10

As Aiden walked to Gallifrey Flowers, he stopped outside the coffee shop. Without any nightmares keeping him awake the previous night, he was well rested, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to go in and indulge in a cup of java and maybe a pastry. He didn’t want to break routine, even if it was already ten o’clock and he was running much later than normal. 

Of course, he would have been on time if he hadn’t indulged in another, rather pleasant morning pick-me-up: not one, but two wanks.

Not that he was about to start making a routine of  _ that. _

He had promised to never give in to his fantasies about Rose again, but Aiden hadn’t been able to help succumbing to his needs a second time while in the shower that morning. No more, he swore to himself. Things between him and Rose didn’t need to become any more awkward than they already were. He was hoping their feud would soon stop, and for now, he was just trying to focus on being a better neighbor.

The coffee shop was busier than normal, but he was in a fantastic mood. Not even the long queue could dampen his spirits. He even decided to grab something for Bill, to make up for being late. Unable to see over the tall man in front of him, his lifted onto his toes to peek at the menu when he spotted Donna working alongside Wilf.  _ Fuck!  _ He needed to put on a frown, immediately, or risk another interrogation from the nosy redhead.

Putting his lingering thoughts about Rose aside, Aiden instead focused on the things that irritated him, like obnoxious customers with ridiculous questions and endless queues, all while cursing under his breath about having to wait.

His turn was approaching and he felt ready to take Donna on, or anyone else in his way, for that matter. 

Anyone but Rose... 

His heart raced when she stepped into view from the opposite side of the tall man separating them, oblivious to his presence. With his view obstructed and his being distracted by Donna, he hadn’t seen her until she had shifted to one side.

She was the portrait of innocence, with her hair in two braids and a colorful scarf that hung loosely off the shoulders of her denim jacket. Then his eyes journeyed lower to the enticingly short denim skirt she wore, paired with sheer black leggings, and Aiden was reminded of the Rose who had seduced him in his dream. He appreciated the way the skirt hugged her curves so whenever she moved…

“Oi, Spaceman!” Donna shouted, surprising not only Aiden, but Rose, who was now following Donna’s gaze. She spun around to face him and he froze in place, gawking at her stupidly with his jaw hanging open.

Shifting his eyes to Donna, he saw her standing behind the counter with her hands on her hips. A large empty space separated them, left by the man who had been in front of him but was now gone.

“Sorry,” Aiden muttered and shuffled forward while Rose continued to glare at him. “I, uh…” he began, but his mind was now foggy and he had forgotten why he was there in the first place. He looked up at the menu, hoping it would jog his memory, but was again distracted as Wilf handed Rose her order and she began to walk away.

He’d never had a chance to speak to her (not that he had anything pertinent to say), and as he watched her leave, he considered chasing after her.

“Are you gonna order or just stand there staring at Miss Tyler’s arse until she’s gone?” Donna barked.

Aiden furrowed his brow. “I was doing no such thing! I just needed to speak with her and before I could, you distracted me.”

“Ha!” Donna cackled. “You were distracted alright, but it wasn’t by me.” She continued to chuckle as she put in his order. “Seeing as you’re tongue tied, I’ll assume you want the usual.”

“Fine, whatever.” Aiden grumbled as he paid her. “Just drop it already.”

“Mmhmm,” Donna’s eyes narrowed. “I’m on to you, Spaceman.”

_ Again, with the name?  _ “Whatever you think you know, you can forget it.” He snagged the change from her hand and stormed out, cursing her name all the way to work.

“About time you showed up.” Bill announced when Aiden threw the door open and stomped inside.

Keeping his eyes low, he muttered, “I overslept,” and trekked toward the back.

“You never oversleep.” Bill followed on his heels. “Not that you’re ever on time. Anything wrong?”

Aiden’s head fell back and he groaned, turning to face her. “Look, nothing’s wrong,” he snarked. “I just forgot to set my alarm. Okay?”

“Fine.” Bill stepped back, hands raised in surrender. “Whatever.”

Grateful she didn’t seem inclined to probe any further, Aiden continued his retreat to the back room when the door chimed and he heard Donna’s shrill voice. “Oi, Spaceman! Forget something?”

Glancing back, he found her waving at him with the coffee he had ordered.

“Will you stop with the fuckin’ nickname!” Aiden marched over to Donna. Grabbing the cup, he muttered, “Thank you,” and opened the door in a not-so-subtle invitation for her to leave.

Bill crossed her arms and studied him. “Now I _ know _ something’s wrong.”

“You noticed too?” To Aiden’s annoyance, Donna strolled further in. “Grandad was oblivious to it, said I was mad.”

Aiden slammed the door. “You  _ are _ mad!” He pointed at Bill. “And I told you, nothing is wrong.”

“Is he always this defensive,” she asked Bill.

Bill nodded. “Sometimes. It usually means he’s hiding something.”

Aiden looked to each of them, mouth agape. The last thing he needed was for these two women to join forces. “I’m  _ not _ hiding anything!” He looked at Donna. “I just don’t need  _ you _ hanging around here, filling Bill’s head with any more of this nonsense!” It was so frustrating having to defend himself like this every day. “I can’t do any  _ little _ thing different around here without her thinking it’s because of Rose!”

Bill slapped the counter. “That explains it!”

He reeled back, feeling a knot in the pit of his stomach when he realized neither of them had mentioned Rose. Watching Donna’s lips curve into a smug smile, she turned back to Bill. “He’s been like this for a while I take it?”

“A few weeks now.” Bill rested her elbows on the counter. “No use getting it out of him, though.” She leaned toward Donna, but kept her eyes on Aiden, while she whispered, “He’s still in denial.”

“I’m not…” His stammered but was drowned out by Donna’s laugh.

“Ha!” She leaned on the counter beside Bill as they observed him. “You poor man,” she tsked. “So far gone for her and you don’t even realize it. If you want proof,” she thrust her thumb backward, toward the coffee shop, “I’m sure my security cameras have footage of you, gawking at her arse as if you’d found the holy grail.”

Bill barked out a laugh, “He  _ didn’t? _ ”

“I wasn’t,” he protested, but neither of them paid him any attention.

Donna laughed along. “He was so distracted, he didn’t even notice it was his turn to order.”

“Enough! Both of you!” Aiden shouted, finally quieting them. Only, what could he say? The more he denied it, the less they believed him, and now Donna had something to blackmail him with. Dragging his hands down his face, he took a deep breath and let it out. He needed to make something very clear. “Can you…” he looked to Donna and swallowed, “… maybe not mention this… to Rose?”

“You think I would do that?” Donna stood upright. “And spoil everything? This is better than anything on the telly, even better than Eastenders. Your secret’s safe with me, Spaceman.” Finally, she moved toward the exit. “Well, I should get back, so Grandad can have a break.” Opening the door, she regarded Aiden. “You know, this would be a whole lot easier if you stopped playing games, got your head out of your arse, and asked her out. You own a flower shop for Pete’s sake,” she gazed around the room, “I would’ve assumed you’d be better at this.”

As the door slammed behind Donna, Aiden’s eyes drifted to Bill to find her watching him. She smirked. “Couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

Growling in response, Aiden stamped away.

* * *

 

Rose gazed out the bus window, watching the scenery go by as she traveled to her mum’s for a long overdue visit.  Not that she had been avoiding her, but since starting her new job and moving off the estate, she was a little wary about going back. With her mum’s tendency to brag, Rose worried if she would be welcomed back by her old neighbors or treated like an outsider.

But that wasn’t all that had been keeping her from visiting. Her sleepless nights and days spent feuding with her neighbor had taken up a great deal of her time. Now that was all over, Rose only had her job to keep her busy and she was now realizing how dull and tedious her life had become.

She had friends, plenty of them, and when they were younger, they would always have had something going on. At least until that self-serving wanker, Jimmy Stone had come along, taken control of her life, and demanded she run away with him. She was just glad she had finally managed to escape him when she had.

Now her friends were all grown, with their own careers. Some were even married and a few had children. Not that she had lost touch with them completely. They just didn’t see each other as often as they used to.

_ It’s too bad _ , Rose thought to herself. They would have enjoyed helping her annoy Aiden the same way he had been annoying her. Maybe then he wouldn’t have given up, or “surrendered”, as he called it, so easily.

But why had he given up when he had?  _ She  _ had just started having the satisfaction of properly fighting back, and the score was far from even. Unless he was bluffing, and he had told her he had surrendered to throw her off... That had to be it, she reassured herself. She would just need to stay on high alert for a bit longer. Pausing, she wondered, when had reminiscing about old friends turned into thoughts about Aiden? And why?

Rose entered the flat and found her mum in the kitchen.

“Oh, look who finally decided to grace me with her presence,” Jackie remarked before giving her a hug. “I was beginning to think you forgot about me.”

“It hasn’t been that long, Mum.” Rose replied. “You act as if I’ve been gone a year.”

“Well it feels like it’s been a year,” Jackie said. “You don’t even call.”

“Sorry, I’ve been busy.” Rose handed Jackie a small paper bag. “Here, I brought you something, a peace offering.”

Jackie peeked inside the bag. “Is this one of those scones you’re always going on about?” She reached for a plate and sliced it in half, placing it on the table where Rose sat.

Staring at the pastry Rose thought back to that morning’s visit to the coffee shop. She hadn’t been expecting to run into Aiden since he normally went in at least an hour earlier. It was almost as if he had been following her, only he’d appeared to be just as surprised to see her as she had been to see him...

“So, who is he?” Jackie asked.

Rose blinked several times, realizing she had zoned out. “He who?”

Jackie smiled, stirring her coffee. “This man you’re obviously thinking about. Is he the one who’s been taking up all your time?”

“I wasn’t thinking about anyone.” Rose knew that was a lie. “You know I haven’t been seeing anyone since Jimmy.” She picked up her half of the scone. Before taking a bite, she muttered, “I don’t want to fall into that trap again.”

“You and I both know that won’t happen again,” Jackie assured her. “There are plenty of good men out there. Look at Mickey, if he weren’t engaged to Martha I’d suggest-”

Rose rolled her eyes. “We’re friends, Mum! Nothing more.”

“I just want you to be happy, sweetheart.” Jackie took her hand. “I can’t bear the idea of you spending the rest of your life alone.”

“I know, Mum.” Rose squeezed her hand. “But I  _ am _ happy and just because I don’t have a man in my life doesn’t mean I’m alone. I still have you, not to mention Ianto and all my other friends. That’s all I need.”

Jackie huffed, and her eyes fell to the plate. Picking up her half of the scone she took a bite and her eyes widened. “Blimey, this is delicious!”

Rose giggled. “Told ya! Wilf makes the best scones in London.”

Jackie swallowed her bite. “Is he single? If he is, you should marry him.”

 

After spending most of the afternoon with her mum, Rose boarded the bus to return home and change for work. She looked uneasily over her shoulder as she scanned her Oyster pass. She’d received her share of friendly greetings and standoffish stares, both arriving at the Estate and on her way to catch the bus home. She’d expected as much. But now, she couldn’t shake the sensation of being actively watched. Peering out the window as the bus drove away, she looked for anything unusual but found nothing.

It was an unsettling feeling that remained with her throughout the evening at work, and as Ianto locked up that night, Rose asked for a ride home.

“Yeah.” Ianto studied her for a moment, knowing she rarely asked. “Is everything alright?”

Rose yawned, running her fingers through her hair. “Just tired. Long day.”

“Don’t tell me McGrump is keeping you up all night again,” Ianto groaned. “I was truly hoping he stopped.”

“He has.” Rose followed him out and climbed into his car. “I think. Maybe I’m being paranoid, but it feels like he’s getting ready to strike again. I’m sure it will pass, but if he does, I’ll be ready for him.”

 

* * *

 

Aiden stood in the shower, bracing his hand against the tiled wall, water cascading down his back as he recovered from his orgasm.

As hard as he tried to control his thoughts during the day, it was his subconscious that had betrayed him in the end. Placing Rose in his dream, at his shop of all places, and wearing that same outfit he had seen her in at the coffee shop the day before. If he could make it through the day without thinking of her writhing on his workbench surrounded by flowers, it would be a miracle.

Once dressed, he found he was already running late. Quickly, he made his rounds to water the plants, apologizing to them verbally for his negligence over the past couple of days, before rushing out the door and down the stairs.

He knew if he hurried, he could get to his shop early enough to not raise any more suspicion from Bill. Nearing the bottom of the steps, Aiden hopped the last two, not seeing Rose there until he landed, his shoes smacking loudly against the pavement behind her.

Dropping her keys, she startled and spun around to glare at him, “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“Sorry.” He watched as she bent down to picked up her keys with a trembling hand and place them in her handbag. Surely, he couldn’t have frightened her that badly. “I was in a hurry and I thought a little jump might save me a few seconds.”

“Well, don’t let me slow you down,” she snapped before walking off toward the road.

Although she was moving at a very quick pace, Aiden knew he could overtake her easily... but that would be rude, especially when he was trying to prove to her that he wasn’t. Of course, following her the way he was now didn’t seem appropriate either.

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Aiden lengthened his strides until he caught up with Rose and he strolled along beside her.

“What are you doing?” She didn’t look at him, keeping her eyes on the road ahead.

“Walking to work. You?” He smirked.

Rose rolled her eyes but kept them facing  forward. “I thought you said you were in a hurry?”

“I am, but I’m already late so why rush?” He shrugged. “Plus, we’re headed in the same direction.”

Stopping at a crosswalk, they waited for the light as Rose pressed the button repeatedly. “Two days ago, you show up at my job unexpectedly and that night I find you sitting outside my flat when I get home. The next morning, I see you lurking behind me in the coffee shop, now today you just so happen to be leaving at the same time as me?” The light changed, and Rose hurried to cross. “I hope this isn’t some new game you’re playing, because if it is, it’s rather unnerving.”

“It’s not as if I planned it that way,” he retorted. “We’re neighbors, so stop acting surprised every time you happen to run into me.”

“Explain your visit to Torchwood then?” She maneuvered through the busy crowd now blocking their path as they neared the coffee shop.

Aiden kept close behind her. “I already told you why I was there. Besides, you got to visit  _ my _ shop, twice. Not to mention the parcel you sent me.”

Rose stopped so abruptly, Aiden nearly collided with her. “I had no idea you owned that shop the first time I went in and the second time was strictly business. As for the parcel, it was the only way I could think of to get back at you after all the terrible things you had put me through. But if it’s an apology you’re looking for, then fine, I’m sorry.”

An apology was the last thing he wanted. “Rose, you don’t have to-”

“Stop pretending to be nice,” Rose interrupted. “I’m not falling for it. You’ve been an arse since day one and there’s no changing that. Now please, Mr. McGregor,” his name came out like a stab to the chest, “stop whatever it is you’ve got planned and just pretend I’m invisible, yeah.” Opening the door to the coffee shop, she stormed inside.

Aiden watched her through the glass. He wanted to go in and fix this, but she had reminded him in no uncertain terms why he had been trying to avoid her in the first place. 

He didn’t deserve her.

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally this chapter was incredibly long but my beta (who is awesome by the way) and I agreed it would be best to split it in two. Sorry it is short, but it was the best place to stop. Just know the next chapter will be up soon.

Two days had passed since the morning Rose had confronted Aiden in front of the coffee shop and since then she hadn’t seen him once. She knew he was still around because she could still hear him from his flat above, although he made very little noise. Maybe her warning to leave her alone had worked, for once. It was a relief, if a bit boring, having so much time to herself, without the tension of wondering when he was going to strike next. 

Rose had the night off so she decided to take advantage of her extra free time to contact a few old friends. As always, most of them were busy, but thankfully Keisha and Shareen were able to break away for a few hours and meet for dinner. 

After an evening of laughter and sharing stories over a fabulous meal, it was time to say goodbye and head their separate ways. They both had families to get home to, and Rose was happy for them, but now as she walked home, knowing nothing awaited her but an empty flat, she was beginning to realize her life might not be as complete as she thought it was.

Maybe her mum was right, and it was time she tried dating again. She had been avoiding it for so long, but to deny herself ever meeting the right man would mean she was still Jimmy’s victim and she’d promised herself she wouldn’t let his memory impact her future. But that was a hard promise to keep.

It was a quiet night. Not even a car passed by, and as she approached her flat, she looked up at Aiden’s window to find it dark. Either he was out or asleep. She sighed, knowing she’d have some peace tonight.

Stopping at her door, she fished around for her keys when she was startled by a voice from behind her. “Well, look at you.” She hadn’t heard that voice in years, but it still managed to make her skin crawl. Spinning around, she found herself face to face with Jimmy, and evidently, time hadn’t treated him kindly. His eyes were sunken, his hair ragged and patchy, and his menacing smile revealed several missing teeth. 

“I’d heard rumors you’ve been working at some posh restaurant and living on your own, off the estate. Not that I believed ‘em, but when I spotted you leaving your Mum’s a couple days ago, I decided to come see for myself.” With each step he took forward, she took one back, nose wrinkling in revulsion at the smell of whiskey emanating from his pores. He gazed around at the buildings surrounding him. “It looks like you’ve done well.”

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Rose warned, fighting down a rush of panic as she hit the brick wall behind her. She had put a restraining order on him years ago and, so far, he’d honored it. Taking his ratty clothing as a sign he hadn’t worked in ages, she could only assume he was here for money.

“Neither are you,” he sneered, stopping directly in front of her, trailing a knuckle down her cheek until she flinched away. “You’re trying to be something you’re not.” Wrapping his fingers around her upper arm, he held her firmly in place. “You know where I’ve been living? In a fucking car, eating whatever people toss my way, like a dog.”

Knowing what he was capable of, she could only imagine what terrifying plans he had for her, although the smell alone was torture enough. Her only hope was escape, and seeing as he had her trapped, the outcome was looking grim. Her stomach to lurched with dread.

Rose fought down the panic. It would only fuel Jimmy’s anger. She forced herself to strategize, to find a means to escape. She remembered how strong he had been in the past and knew fighting back would be useless, but maybe she could run. If she could get in one good kick to the bollocks... He just needed to change his stance.

Having dealt with him in this state before, Rose knew if she managed to stay calm, he’d eventually let his guard down, but she was finding it increasingly difficult to do as his grip on her arm tightened painfully. He leaned closer, forcing Rose to squeeze her eyes shut, as his breath burned against her skin. “You can play dress up and act all posh, but you and I both know under all that makeup you’re just a worthless chav!”

Unexpectedly, he let go and jerked away from her, growling, “Who the fu-”

A loud cracking sound echoed in her ears followed by silence. Chancing a peek, Rose was stunned to find Aiden standing before her. His lip was curled into a snarl and his eyes flashed as he stood over Jimmy’s limp body with his hands balled into fists, waiting for him to rise and continue fighting. She thought she had seen her neighbor angry before, but this was pure rage and unlike anything she’d ever witnessed before.

“Is he… dead?” Rose peeped. Aiden’s eyes traveled from the lump on the ground to her face and his features softened instantly, transforming him into the man she recognized. He kneeled beside the body and felt for his pulse and checked his breathing. “No, just unconscious.” He stood up and gave him a small, but firm, kick. “Being as drunk as he is, he’ll probably be out for a while.”

Rose rubbed at her arm where Jimmy had grabbed her and knew she would be bruised tomorrow.

Aiden stepped closer. “Are you hurt?”

“No. I’m fine. Jus’...” Rose scrambled away while pulling out her keys and mobile. “I’m just gonna step inside and call the police, yeah?” She could see the concern etched in Aiden’s face, but right now all she wanted was Jimmy gone.

* * *

The police had arrived quickly and as Aiden gave his account to an officer, he could feel the pain throbbing in his knuckles. He hadn’t punched anybody since he was in his twenties, and then it had never been hard enough to cause himself any harm. He only hoped that tosser’s face hurt more than his hand did.

He had had no intention of fighting the man when he had first spotted them, but it had quickly become apparent Rose needed help. As he drew closer, Aiden had heard those last vile words that waste of space had spoken to her and a coil within him had snapped. The rest was just a blur. He looked over at Rose who was talking with another officer, keeping a brave face, and he realized this was nothing new to her, another chapter of her story he hadn’t heard.

As quickly as they had come, the crowd of police, medics, and nosey neighbors had left, leaving Rose and Aiden standing alone, outside her door.

Before she disappeared inside, he felt compelled to clarify something. “I promise I wasn’t following you or anything. I had some work to finish up and was just headed home.”

She nodded absently but wouldn’t look at him as her thoughts seemed to be elsewhere.

“I should… erm... head up.” He eased up the first couple of stairs, not wanting to cause her anymore distress when, from behind, he heard Rose choke out, “Aiden?”

His heart stuttered upon hearing her use his proper name and he turned to her.

With her right arm across her torso, gripping her left, she hung her head low and murmured, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” The corner of his lip quirked upward. “Although, he had it coming.”

Tears shimmering in her eyes, she gave him a weak smile in return. 

A few awkward seconds passed and Aiden assumed she had said all she needed to. He made to continue up to his flat but upon looking back, he realized she was still standing there, reluctant to go inside. Biting her lower lip, she glanced over her shoulder toward her door. “Can you…” she ran a hand through her hair, “...can you stay? Just for a bit. I called my friend, Ianto, and he’s on his way, but until then…”

“Yeah. Of course!” She didn’t have to ask him twice and as he headed back down, she finally put the key in her lock and opened the door.

Remembering how Rose had just stood hesitantly by his door the night he invited her into his, Aiden found himself doing the same as his feet crossed the threshold. He was in Rose Tyler’s  _ home _ , forbidden ground for someone like him.

She turned on a few lights and he stared around the flat. It resembled his own, minus the guitar and piano, and perhaps a bit more pink than he was used to, but much the same nonetheless. He moved to take off his coat when a flash of pain caused him to wince and suck in his breath.

“Give me a mo’ while I…” Rose stopped when she caught him rubbing his sore knuckles. “If you’re hurt, why didn’t you tell the medics?”

“Nah,” Aiden made a fist and opened his hand to prove he was ok. “I don’t need a bunch of kids hovering over me, making a big deal about it when all I need is some ice.”

Rose scrunched her nose. “Oh, you’re one of those.” She walked into the kitchen, grabbing a towel, and began filling it with ice.

Aiden’s brow furrowed as he walked further inside and sat at her breakfast nook. “One of what?”

“One of those blokes who refuses to go to a doctor, claiming they’re fine when they know perfectly well they aren’t?” She handed the towel of ice to him.

“I  _ am _ fine,” he proclaimed as he pressed it to his knuckles with a poorly concealed yelp. Despite his assertions to the contrary, he had to admit, it was going to be sore for quite a while.

“You won’t know for sure unless you have a doctor take a look at it,” she nagged him.

Aiden rolled his eyes. “I  _ do _ know.”

Rose placed her hands on her hips and stared down at him. “How? How do you know?”

“Because I am a doctor!” Aiden spat out. He lowered his head, ashamed for raising his voice and mumbled, “ _ Was…  _ was a doctor.”

“Oh,” Rose rested her elbows on the countertop and studied his hand. “Why not anymore? Doctor to florist is a big leap, yeah?”

He looked at her. She was so tired and weary but she fought hard to hide it. She didn’t deserve his brashness tonight. He sighed. “Let’s just say I wasn’t as good as I thought I was.”

“Like, not smart enough?” she asked.

“Of course I was smart enough,” Aiden scoffed. “But grades and knowledge are no good when you have a nineteen-year-old kid lying in front of you with his torso blown apart because he’d sacrificed himself falling on a grenade to protect his fellow soldiers. He didn’t deserve to die but there was nothing I could do but grab his hand and into his eyes as he took his last breath.” Aiden’s jaw clenched, and he fought back tears as he recounted the memory. It was just one of his many nightmares he’d refused to talk about to anyone until today.

“If there was nothing you could do, how’s it your fault?” She made it sound so simple.

Dropping the towel, his swollen hand formed into a fist and he slammed it on the counter, making Rose jump. “Because I had big ideas about how I was the one who could make a difference!” His voice quavered and he stopped to swallow the painful knot in his throat. “I didn’t know I would remember the eyes of every single one of them as they looked to me for help... and all I could do was stand there and watch them die.”

Rose gently cradled his hand in hers as she picked up the ice and held it to his knuckles. “At least they weren’t alone.”

Aiden’s eyes met hers and he felt warmth envelope him. Although her words didn’t take away the pain, finally being able to tell someone healed him in other ways. 

Breaking eye contact, he sniffed. “Sorry. I don’t like to talk about that.”

A knock sounded at the door and Rose snatched her hand away, spilling the ice when she did. “Um…” she scooped up the cubes and placed them back in the towel to give to him. “I’ll be right back.” She hurried to open the door, and her friend on the opposite side immediately wrapped her in a hug.

They were speaking quietly and after a moment Aiden stood up, knowing she’d want to be alone with Ianto. “Now that you’re here,” he called out, affecting his trademark cantankerous demeanor, “I can finally get some rest.” He walked toward the two friends and handed the ice back to Rose.

Asking Ianto to wait inside, Rose escorted him out. “Are you going to be alright?” 

“Yeah.” Bemused by her concern for his well being when she was the one who had been attacked, he held up his hand and wiggled his fingers. “It’ll heal.”

“I meant,” Rose toyed with the towel in her hand, “with... the other thing.”

“Ah.” He breathed in deeply, uncertain himself. “Well, I’ve lived with it for this long.” Peering inside her flat, he spotted Ianto watching from a distance preparing some tea, but out of earshot. “Just, promise me you won’t tell anyone. It’s not something I’m proud of.”

“Okay.” Rose returned to her door and opened it. But as Aiden made his way up to his flat he heard her call out, “Goodnight, Aiden!”

Leaning back down the stairs so he could see her, he gave her a soft smile. “Goodnight, Rose Tyler.

* * *

 

After closing her door and locking it, Rose paused to process what had transpired between her and Aiden. Through his painful confession, she was beginning to have a better understanding of him and in turn a whole new respect. Turning to face Ianto, she found him seated on a stool facing her, smirking as he stirred his tea.

“What are you doing then?”

“Just figured I’d settle in and enjoy the show?” He winked and took a sip.

“If this is how you’re going to be, you can go home now.” Rose headed into the kitchen to make her own tea, finding Ianto had already prepared it for her. Carrying it with her, she took a seat beside him. “Thank you.”

“Just doing what I can to help.” He smiled gently. They sat in silence for a moment before he asked, “So, uh… Do you want to talk about it?”

“There’s nothing to talk about, honestly,” Rose told him with a small shrug of one shoulder. “He was only here a few minutes to keep me company until you arrived.”

He cocked his eyebrow. “I meant… before that.”

“Oh...” Rose felt her cheeks grow warm and shook her head. “No, not right now. I just wish I could forget it, you know?”

“I understand,” he rubbed her shoulder. “How about we just watch a film for now?”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” she smiled back.  

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, another update! It's amazing how much I can get done with no distractions. Hopefully I can keep this up. Of course, it's easier with the help of my beta TenRoseForeverandever guiding me along.

_She was trapped, chained to the wall, as Jimmy stood before her laughing at her attempts to break free. She tried to scream but no sound came out, and he moved closer, wrapping his hand around her throat..._

Jolting awake, Rose found herself curled up on a chair in her darkened living room. Her only source of light came from the telly. (She must have fallen asleep during the film.) She scanned the room and breathed a sigh of relief when she found Ianto asleep on the couch nearby.   

Everything hurt as she moved to stand up.   _How had she managed to fall asleep in that position in the first place?_ Turning off the telly, she left Ianto to sleep as she headed to her bedroom to change and climb into her much more comfortable bed.

As she lay there, she couldn’t bring herself to close her eyes, and stared at the ceiling as her nightmare replayed in her mind. Sleep was out of the question, so she climbed out of bed and pulled on her dressing gown.

Not wanting to wake Ianto, she stole to her patio for some much needed fresh air and to gaze at the stars. Frowning, she stared up at the cloud filled sky and sighed, but as her eyes shifted she noticed she was not the only one out tonight.

On the balcony above her stood Aiden, who appeared to have had the same idea as she had but was left staring at the gentle glow of a cloud-hazed moon. After a few moments he must have sensed her presence, and he shifted to rest his elbows on the banister and look down at her. “Can’t sleep?”

She brought her finger to her lips and pointed toward her door. She whispered, “Ianto is asleep on my couch and I don’t want to wake him.”

Aiden hushed his tone. “How very considerate of you.” He flashed her a smile and Rose giggled, knowing his comment was a jest at himself.

“I was asleep for a bit, but then…” Rose wrapped her arms around herself as Jimmy’s face flashed in her mind.

Aiden nodded as if he understood. “So you came out here for some fresh air?”

“It’s the only thing I could think of. I’d been hoping to do some stargazing but–” Thinking she imagined the drop of water hitting her head, she looked up as another splashed on her nose, followed by another on her chin. _Dammit_ , she cursed to herself, realizing their quiet, shared moment had been cut short. She hurried for the door and ducked back into her flat as quietly as she could.

Feeling guilty for leaving so abruptly, she peered out and found that Aiden had gone inside as well, shutting his balcony door behind him. She checked the time, it was one a.m. and she searched her mind for ways to busy herself and relax until she could fall asleep again. Suddenly all those nights of Aiden’s pacing and guitar playing made sense to her. Well, maybe not the guitar playing, but she was beginning to understand his restlessness.

Tiptoeing toward her front door, Rose gently unlocked it and kept an eye on Ianto, who didn’t so much as stir, as it slowly creaked open. _Nothing was waking him_ , she thought to herself, as she stepped out and closed it softly behind her.

The rain was coming down heavier now and Rose tried to shield herself as she trotted up the steps and found herself tapping on Aiden’s door.

_Stupid. Rose. You’re being completely stupid._

She considered running away before he answered, but when the door opened, she knew it was too late. Taking one look at her, his eyebrows drew together as he pulled her inside, grumbling, “God’s sake, woman. Don’t you own an umbrella?”

“Sorry...” Rose fluffed her wet hair. “I was just… I figured, since you often have trouble sleeping and right now, neither can I…”

Aiden raised his eyebrows. “Ah.”

“Yeah.” Rose chuckled nervously, feeling ridiculous. Now that she was here, she didn’t know what to say. “Um… How’s your hand?”

He held it up to show her. His knuckles were swollen and badly bruised, but he managed to make a fist. “Still not broken.”

“It looks awful.”

“Yeah it does.” Aiden turned it in the light, examining it. “But it’s bound to get worse before it gets better.”

“I’m sorry,” Rose muttered. “If it weren’t for me–”

“Don’t,” he interrupted. “You shouldn’t feel guilty for that stupid ape’s actions.”

Rose wrapped her arms around herself and sighed. Looking to the floor, she noticed the puddle that was forming at her feet. “Shit.” She stepped back and began untying her dressing gown. “This thing soaks up water like a sponge.” Looking up, she found him gaping at her wide eyed and she stopped. “Is everything alright? I’m not naked under here or anything.”

“Of course you’re not,” he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just, hang on…” He rushed to his bedroom, emerging with one of his jumpers and handed it to her. “This should keep you warm at least.”

“Thank you.” She smiled, and slipped out of her dressing gown.

“Erm,” he gulped and walked toward the kitchen, “do you want something to drink? I know you didn’t care for my bourbon, but I did buy a bottle of that wine I had the night I ate at your restaurant.”

Rose remembered, pursing her lips, knowing it was Clara who had suggested it, but right now a glass of wine sounded perfect. “Ok, I’ll have wine.”

Rose pulled on the jumper, noting a sense of security as it enveloped her. Strolling toward the kitchen, she found Aiden eyeing the bottle of wine with the corkscrew in his left hand while the right rested on the counter uselessly. He gave her a sidelong glance and lowered his head. “Uh… do you think you could give me a hand?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Rose stepped closer,” I wasn’t thinking about how you were supposed to open it.”

“Neither was I until I got in here.” Aiden watched Rose uncork the bottle. “I suppose I’m going to have to learn to adjust for a while.”

Rose paused as his words sunk in and she gasped. “Wait, how are you going to work?”

“I’ll manage.” Picking up the uncorked bottle, he poured two glasses. “Not to mention, I have Bill to help me. She’s been asking to learn a little more, so I suppose this would be a good time.”

“It’s good you have somebody like Bill you can trust.”

“I suppose,” he sighed, raising his glass to his lips and taking a drink.

Remembering how Bill had referred to Aiden as her friend, Rose had never considered _his_ feelings on the matter. Although he did employ her and had allowed her to stay in his flat, Bill had mentioned his reluctance when it came to discussing his personal life. Perhaps he didn’t have as much trust in Bill as Rose had first presumed.

Aiden strolled toward the living room and perched himself on the arm of the couch.

“When I first met Bill,” Rose entered the room behind him, “I asked her why she called you ‘the Doctor’ but she never actually explained why. She just said it’s what she liked to call you.”

“Bill asks a lot of questions,” he grumbled. “Bombards me with them. One afternoon she kept asking question after question, but my mind was on my work and at some point, I briefly mentioned my time as a doctor in the Army.” He huffed and took another large swig of wine. “She was relentless for a while after that, trying to find out more, but I learned to ignore her until she got the hint and stopped pestering me.”

“So, you never told her about…” Rose stopped herself, knowing it wasn’t any of her business.

“I haven’t told anyone about it...” he stared down into his glass, “… until tonight.”

Rose swallowed. “Oh.”

“Well…” he stood up and walked toward his plants, staring at them proudly, “...not unless you count _them_.”

Rose giggled. “You talk to your plants?”

“Nothing wrong with that,” he maintained, glancing at her over his shoulder. “Have you ever had a pet?”

“A cat, when I lived on the estate.” She smiled, thinking about him. “His name was Oliver.”

“And did you ever talk to him?”

“Yeah, but when I did, he seemed to listen. He would even meow in response as if he were having a conversation with me.” Aiden’s lips curled into a smile, eyes twinkling in the dim light, and Rose had to lower her gaze as she began to blush.

“It’s no different with plants,” he turned his attention back to them, “only they respond differently. Whether it be from talking or playing music, they will grow fuller and larger. I can judge how happy they are by how often I need to trim them.” He looked toward her, one eyebrow raised high. “Which I haven’t needed to do since someone decided to stop singing in the shower.”

Rose laughed. “They look exactly the same as before.”

“Maybe to you,” he held his chin high, “but I know them better.”

Rose approached the plant for a better look, still finding no difference. “But you’re always playing music.”

“Obviously, they have a preference. They’re very discerning,” he shrugged and walked away. Most likely to refill his glass.

Rose studied the plant as she finished own glass and decided a refill wouldn’t hurt. “When you talk to them, does it help?” She entered the kitchen, finding Aiden struggling to gather ice for his swollen hand and she sighed at his stubbornness. Placing her glass down she nudged him out of the way to take over.

He rolled his eyes but moved without protest. “Well, keeping it all bottled up wasn’t helping.”

She made quick work of wrapping the ice and took his hand, cradling it in her own as she held it to his his knuckles. “You know, there are services with people you could talk to instead.” She looked up to meet his eyes, suddenly aware how close they were standing.

Averting his gaze, Aiden sucked in a breath and stepped away, removing his hand from hers. “I tried, which is how I ended up with all of this.” He strode to his balcony door, opening it to show her his large array of plants and flowers.

Rose came closer for a better look. “They recommended you talk to flowers?”

“She,” he corrected her. “Just one person.” It was no longer raining so he stepped out. “After moving here, I sought out somebody with the best education and experience in… for my issue, hoping she could help. Problem was, I couldn’t bear to talk about it.”

It wasn’t a large balcony and with all the foliage, the space was limited, but Rose was able to step out beside him.

“After a few weeks, she seemed to be giving up on me, and she gave me this little rose plant.” He pointed at a large flowering pot and corrected himself, “Well, large rose plant these days.” Setting the ice aside, he reached into his pocket and knelt down. “She suggested I practice communicating by talking to something that wouldn’t leave me feeling judged.” He made a sharp movement with his hand and a pained grunting noise. “She said when I was feeling ready, I could come back and try again.” He stood upright again, holding a miniature yellow rose and presented it to her. “It’s still early in the season,” he explained. “Wait a couple of months and the blooms will be much larger.”

“Thank you,” Rose whispered as she accepted the flower and watched as he closed the knife and slipped it into his pocket. “So, this is the same plant?”

“It’s gone through many changes, but yes.” He picked up the ice and held it to his hand again.

“Did you ever go back to talk to her?” Rose went back inside, and he followed, closing the door behind them.

“No.” Aiden went straight for his glass of wine, topping it off generously. “But as you can see, her suggestion led to something much bigger.”

Learning she had been the only one who knew this close guarded detail of his life hit Rose like a wall of bricks. Now he was trusting her to keep his secret, and although it weighed heavily on her shoulders, she couldn’t imagine how it must feel for him.

They remained silent as Rose tapped the wine glass with her index finger, before nervously peeping, “Why me?” She took a deep breath, looking him in the eye. “If you refused to speak to Bill or to your therapist, why would you suddenly confide in me? Given our history, I should be the last person you would want to have know about… well...”

He stared off to the side. “I don’t know. After everything that happened earlier, I didn’t want to start an argument. I didn’t expect to say as much as I did.”

“Is this why you don’t sleep?”

He gave her a brief glance before letting out a long breath and lowering his eyes. Taking a large mouthful of wine, he nodded in response. “Some nights aren’t so bad, but most of the time I can see their faces the moment I shut my eyes. I try to fight it, but the harder I do, the more vivid they become until...”

“Until what?” Rose encouraged him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“I can hear their cries.” He pointed at his temple. “In here, on nights when it’s really quiet. I can’t get them out of my head.”

“Oh...” A sense of guilt came over Rose as she thought back on all those nights she’d complained about the noise, now realizing he was probably just trying to drown out his thoughts.

“I think I understand.” Rose swallowed down her wine, hoping it would give her the courage she needed. He had revealed so much and she felt she owed him some sort of insight as to who the man was he had rescued her from. “I started seeing Jimmy when I was sixteen. Being so young I thought we were in love and I ignored all the warnings from my friends and my mum. He controlled every aspect of my life: who I talked to, what I wore, even what I ate. At seventeen I ran away with him, and although I knew it was a mistake, I was too afraid to tell him no. He had plans of being some sort of rock god and said we wouldn’t need school because he’d be rich.”

Aiden put his glass down and turned to look at her. Crossing his arms, he leaned against the counter, giving her his full attention.

“Well, as you can guess, things didn’t work out for him the way he intended. In all honesty, he was a lousy guitarist... nothing like you.” It was a small boost to his ego and when he gave her a small smile, she giggled. “Don’t be daft. You have no idea how terrible he was.”

“Anyway, what little money he did earn went toward his drinking habit while I worked two jobs to keep us from living on the street. Shortly after, he began blaming me for his failures and nearly every night he would stagger in drunk, attack me, and–”

Rose snapped her mouth shut, spooked by how much she had nearly revealed. Seeing Aiden’s nostrils flare as his bruised hand tightened into a fist, it was apparent he knew how that sentence would have ended.

“I never told my mum about that, or Ianto. So, please...” She lowered her eyes, ashamed, and sniffed, wiping away a tear that had rolled down her cheek, when she felt his hand wrap around hers.

“Nothing leaves this flat,” he assured her. Meeting his eyes, she could see the sincerity in them. “You have my word.”

Without a thought, Rose launched herself forward, wrapping him in a tight embrace. She didn’t know if it was his words that did it, or being grateful for having someone to confide in, but as his arms came around her in return, it felt so right. Closing her eyes, she took a moment to calm herself and appreciate this rare bit of affection from him.  

“It took months, but eventually I started getting my life together.” Neither of them had let go, still holding each other as she spoke. “I promised myself I wouldn’t let my past haunt me and I’d  rise above it, which is what pushed me to work so hard, and for years I believed I was over it. Only, that bastard had to show up at my doorstep and that was all it took for him to get into my head again. Which is why I’m awake now, because I’m afraid if I close my eyes, he’ll be there waiting for me.”

* * *

 

They remained that way for a while longer, Aiden unable to believe he was holding Rose Tyler in his arms. He marveled how two neighbors, practically strangers, aside from their bitter rivalry, could find such comfort embracing after bearing their darkest secrets to one another.

Their pasts were so very different and although the demons weren’t the same, they were each fighting a similar battle.

How had it come to this?

Well, the answer to that was simple, it was that stupid fucking ape, Jimmy Stone. Hearing what that arsehole had done made Aiden’s blood boil. Unlike himself, Rose had been winning her battle only to be blindsided by her ex. He refused to let it set her back. He’d make sure she would overcome this, just as she had before, but first he needed her to find something else to focus on.

He pulled away from her and grasped her hand, giving it a gentle tug, “Come on.”

She followed without question and Aiden took pride in the fact that she laid her trust in him. The journey was short and as they stopped in front of his piano, he was reluctant to let go, but he did. “Sit.”

She stared at the keys. “I don’t know how to play.”

“And I can’t play one handed.” He sat on the right-side of the bench, leaving plenty of space for her on his left. “So, this can either be a learning experience for the both of us or a fucking disaster.”

She took a seat beside him. “Ok, now what?”

“No idea, give me a minute.” He had never taught another person how to play, regardless of Bill’s constant pleading while she’d stayed with him. He didn’t even have any sheet music for her to follow since he had no need for it.

As he searched his mind for the right song, Rose absentmindedly played two keys simultaneously and he had a flashback to his childhood. “Got it!” He reached across, resting his hand next to hers as he played the first chords to John Lennon’s _Imagine_. “We’re going to go through this in segments, but I think you’ll figure it out soon enough.”

A short time later, Aiden watched as Rose flawlessly played the first part of the song, exactly as he had shown her.  “I think you were lying to me about not knowing how to play,” he teased her.

“You got me. I used to be a world-famous concert pianist and left it all behind to become a chef.” She laughed, her smile widening as a bit of tongue peeked from between her teeth causing Aiden’s heart to hammer in his chest wildly.

“Want me to do it again?” It took Aiden a moment to realize she was talking about the song.

“Oh,” he snapped out of his daze, “yes, but I’m going to play a bit on my end this time.” He readied his fingers. “See if you can keep up without getting flustered.” If he were being honest with himself, it was he who needed to concentrate. He had never played this part left handed before and currently his mind was more focused on the woman sitting beside him.

Hearing her finish the final notes of what she had learned so far, he broke out of his daze with the realization he hadn’t played a note. _Get ahold of yourself Aiden!_

She peered at him, a little smile on her lips. “I thought you were going to chime in?”

“I…” he gulped, “I was just... checking to see if you were ready. Thought you might like another chance to practice.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever you say…”

“C’mon,” he growled good humoredly, “let’s try again.”

She was a natural, Aiden thought to himself as the night progressed. Although they hadn’t gotten through the entire song, there was very little left to show her. Few mistakes had been made and the majority of those were on Aiden’s end.

“I think it was you who was lying about knowing how to play,” Rose jested in return.

He couldn’t argue with that. He’d played this song hundreds of times over the course of several years, and although he was using a different hand, he shouldn’t have been hitting the wrong notes as often as he had. His flubs had only worsened after Rose began to sing along softly. He’d thought she sounded amazing before when she’d been singing from her shower, but hearing her singing in person was enchanting.

Yawning, Rose stretched her arms overhead. It was clear she was exhausted, and Aiden realized he was as well, but he was enjoying himself too much to care. Picking up her mobile, she looked at the screen and gasped. “Oh my god! It’s four in the morning!”

He checked his watch. She was right.

She sprang to her feet. “Hopefully Ianto didn’t wake up and try to check on me. I don’t want to be responsible for giving him a heart attack.”

“You know him better than I do,” Aiden followed her, smiling as she went back to retrieve the flower he had given her, “but don’t you think he’d try calling you before going into cardiac arrest?”

“Probably,” Rose admitted, sheepishly.

Aiden chuckled, opening the door for her. “I’ll walk you down. If he has indeed called a search party, I can vouch for you.”

“At least it’s stopped raining,” Rose commented as they walked downstairs.

“For now. Considering your track record, I wouldn’t be surprised if it began pouring down right now.”

“Git!” She butted him with her elbow as they reached the landing, stopping outside her door. Their playful banter suddenly plummeted to awkward silence, neither of them knowing how to bring the night to an end.

“I should leave you to rest.” He moved to leave but Rose grabbed his arm, stopping him.

“Um…” she trailed off, “…just… thank you, for putting up with me tonight.”

“My pleasure.” He smiled, opening his arms in invitation. She went willingly, hugging him in return. “Not that I was exactly _putting up with you_. I know it’s not easy keeping a brave face every day, pretending there isn’t some dark cloud looming overhead.”

“I suppose we both needed to let some of it out,” she mumbled, her head pressed against his chest.

Aiden tightened his embrace, never wanting to let go, and whispered, “Yeah.”

It all felt like some sort of dream, Aiden thought as he entered his flat afterward. He looked around for evidence of her having been there, and finding she had forgotten her dressing gown, he chuckled. He would take it back to her later. For now he wanted her to rest and maybe he’d be able to get a little sleep as well.

Picking up his mobile, he headed for his bedroom, sending Bill a text that he wouldn’t be in until noon. Setting it on his bedside table, Aiden stripped off his trousers and climbed into bed. Hopefully after tonight, Rose would be willing to give him a second chance and if she did, he was determined not to screw it up.

 


End file.
